The Dark One
by Lord Valerius
Summary: Once upon a time Harvey was just your usual teenager, as usual as a guy with a knife collection, a boyfriend, and telekinetic powers could get anyway. Then the dead started walking and a Fury tried to kill him all in the same afternoon. Now he's got a sword, some fancy armour, and some guy called 'the Dark One' after his blood and worse. And he's loving every minute of it.
1. Prologue

The sun had long risen, the birds singing their loud annoying song across the town when he woke.

Cracking an eye open to squint through the sunlight shining through the large gap in his curtains, the unhappy teen scrunched his face up and turned to bury it in his pillow again. Whining in annoyance as he felt the hair on the back of his head sticking out of place, he curled up and stubbornly refused to join the rest of the world in wakefulness.

Was that even a word? 'Wakefulness'? Whatever, it was now.

Tugging his blankets further over his head, too lazy and comfortable to break up the nest he'd built overnight, he yawned and started to drift off again. When footsteps started stomping up the stairs he groaned pre-emptively, tucking his head under his pillow in the hopes that the Disturbance in the Force would just go away and let him sleep. It was the weekend, and it was totally against multiple laws to wake a sleeping teenager during the weekend. And last he remembered, the punishment was said teenager making his parents regret even conceiving him, which still applied even when the teenager was adopted like he was.

When the owner of the heavy steps moved past his bedroom door, he grinned and made himself more comfortable, relaxing his clamped shut eyes and going limp. Although… what was his Dad (for only his father stomped like that) doing up this early? What had happened to sleeping in on a Sunday? Nobody in his family was the kind of person who'd be up and about before noon on a Sunday unless the world was ending, and even then, they'd probably decide 'To hell with this shit' and go back to bed to die in comfort anyway.

Oh lord, he hadn't forgotten anything, had he? Mum would be _pissed_ if he slept in and missed the party.

His pillow went flying as he sat up suddenly.

The party. _Shit_. How could he have forgotten the – wait, the party was tomorrow tonight, some business thing that he was expected to make an appearance at.

He dropped back down onto the bed, grimacing at the lack of a pillow. And now he was awake, the small surge of adrenaline washing all traces of sleep from his system. Glancing at his alarm clock, he pulled another face and felt an indescribable noise escaping his lips in protest. It wasn't even _ten_ yet, what the hell was he doing awake and aware at this time in the morning?

He was dying, he had to be. It was the only viable explanation.

Able to hear the sounds of dishes being washed in the kitchen beneath his bedroom, he lay there for a moment longer before kicking his blankets back with a groan. He could _already_ feel his back beginning to ache, a clear sign that he'd been lying in bed for too long. His body stupidly disagreeing with his inbuilt desire to be lazy. So, after pulling on some clothes and absently combing a hand through his hair, he headed downstairs to seek out some life-giving coffee.

"Boo."

"Oh my – _HARVEY_!" his mother snapped, flicking soapy water at him with a scowl. "What have I told you about doing that?"

"I dunno," he admitted, picking up a cup of what looked like cold coffee and giving it a sniff. "But to be fair, I probably wasn't listening."

"You have a bad habit of doing that," she muttered in response, turning back to the water-filled sink with a sigh. "And that's your father's drink."

Grunting in acknowledgement and shoving it into the microwave, Harvey glanced around the kitchen as his claimed drink reheated, ignoring both the glow shining behind him and his Mum's unhappy glower. "So, what's going on?" he asked slowly, taking in the cleanliness of the usually disorganised room, "I don't think I've ever seen my own reflection in the fridge before."

"We're having guests over," his mother explained, "And I don't want them to think that we're incapable of looking after you properly."

"They don't even need to know I'm here," Harvey dismissed lazily, grinning at his now steaming coffee. "Because I won't be. Caleb wants to spend the day together, something about making the most of our time together before school starts."

"Actually, you'll be sitting between your father and me," Mum corrected, making him freeze. "They're coming here to see you."

"Uh… no?"

"Uh… yes," his mother insisted, turning and raising an eyebrow at him as he shook his head. "And if your father and I have to tie you down, then we will."

"No, you won't," he argued smugly. "Because if you care so much about their opinion on your ability to raise me, then chaining me up is only counterproductive to your cause."

Harvey smiled at his Mum as the woman froze, brown eyes staring into hazel ones before she was turning and dropping her hands back into the dishwater with a splash. Oh yeah, he knew big words too. Smile turning into a smirk as he leant back against the counter, watching his mother staring into the water silently, he glanced over towards the staircase as heavy footsteps thundered down it.

"Liam. Discipline your son for me."

His father froze, foot hovering inches over the bottom step as he looked around the room with wide eyes. "Why is he _my_ son all of a sudden?" he asked hesitantly, shooting Harvey a look that asked what he'd done.

"He's being a smartass again."

Dad snorted, entering the room properly. "You've got a better chance of teaching pigs to fly than stopping that. Nice bedhead."

"Nice tie," Harvey shot back as he combed his fingers through his hair again, eyeing the piece of fabric his father was adjusting around his neck. "These people can't be that important, can they?"

"You have no idea," Dad muttered, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. "When are they arriving?"

"They should be here in around an hour and a half," his mother answered quickly, draining the sink and beginning to dry the dishes immediately.

As he took a drink from his cup, excuses and lies to get out of this meeting floating through his head, Harvey faltered as his Dad shot him a suspicious look. "Is that my coffee?"

"No," he denied immediately, brushing past the man before he could ask any other questions. Heading up the stairs with a snigger as he heard his father cursing downstairs, Harvey slipped into his room and hip bumped the door shut.

Why the hell was _he_ being involved in this meeting? His parents had meetings here often, meetings and business dinners that he had never before been forced to go to before. What was different about this one? It wasn't like Harvey had a head for numbers and words like his parents did, he was a physical kind of person, spending his time outside playing sports rather than sitting in a stuffy office trying to read. Not that he was very good at reading in the first place, swinging a bat at a ball just came easier to him and with less embarrassment.

He'd much rather spend the day with his _grandparents_ than sit in on a meeting. Seriously.

Pressing the power button on his computer and listening to the sound of it whirring to life, Harvey slumped down into his desk chair and stretched. It shouldn't be hard to convince his Dad to cut him loose, so long as his mother wasn't around to put her foot down he could be free in merely two sentences. The hardest part would be getting his Dad alone long enough to blackmail him into it.

Someone knocked on his bedroom door just as he double-clicked the _Skype_ icon, his Mum swinging it open to fix him with an annoyed look. "I said," she began in greeting, "They should be here in an hour and a half."

"I heard?"

"Then clean this mess up, I don't want them thinking we let you live in your own filth," Mum ordered, casting a judgmental eye around his room. The woman paused and moved over to his unmade bed, picking up a framed picture on the side table. "Treat today like you treat Caleb," she suggested gently, "You may not understand it right now, but this is important, okay?"

Frowning slightly as he stood, Harvey followed his Mum to the doorway and watched her moving down the hallway. "I treat Caleb like furniture," he confessed bluntly, "You've seen us together. If he's around, I usually end up sitting on him."

"Then treat them like you treated him when you first met," Mum shot back, straightening all the pictures scattered up and down the hallway. "Actually, act like your grandparents are in town," she corrected quickly, no doubt remembering the week of nearly painful flirting she'd suffered through when he and Caleb had first bumped into each other, with a car. "But be nice to them, they'll actually recognise your snarky comments for what they are."

"So basically, pretend I'm in church?"

His mother immediately looked horrified. " _Heavens no!_ I remember what happened the last time you were in church."

Harvey cringed, remembering what happened as well. "Pre-Incident Church," he clarified. The Pastor's son still leered and gave him a 'come hither' look every time they saw each other, boyfriend on his arm or not. And he thought the religious types were supposed to be prudes.

"Just," Mum exhaled, "Just behave. The more you behave, the quicker you can leave. Okay?"

His answer – which was going to be sassy and amazing, he was sure of it – was cut off as a whistle echoed down the hallway. "We don't have any milk," Dad reported from the staircase, "I can't find your mother's china, and there's cat hair all over the couch despite the fact that we don't own a cat."

Mum twitched.

"And I spilt coffee on my shirt," Dad added absently, rubbing at the stain with a frown.

Oh wow… and Harvey thought _he_ had problems. His father was just hopeless.

Watching his mother begin to breathe heavily, trying to calm herself down before she lost it, Harvey took a cautious step back towards his bedroom door again. If he had to, he'd run and leave his father behind. Against an angry woman, it was every man for himself.

"Liam," Mum said slowly, her voice doing that thing where it was both calm and angry at the same time. "Go get changed. I'll get the china from exactly where I left it on the counter and set the table. Harvey."

She was looking at him now. Crap.

"Can I trust you to return if I let you out of the house?"

No.

"Of course," he agreed, "What do you need me to do?"

His mother just stared. "Get the milk. Idiot."

* * *

Regular milk… trim milk… lite milk…

Was there even a difference between them? Did it matter?

He normally drank the light blue stuff – the lite milk, apparently – at home, but being the only lactose tolerant in a family of lactose intolerants (the perks of being adopted) meant he had no freaking clue about what's what when it came to milk. Did their guests drink lite milk? Or were _they_ lactose intolerant too?

God, he felt like such a retard for not knowing this.

Grabbing his usual light blue and then adding a second normal one to the basket after a moment's thought, Harvey glanced around the aisle curiously. Did they need anything else? Mum had only told him to get milk, but was there something else they'd forgotten? Shrugging it off and adding a couple of cans of energy drink to the basket as well, he set off down the aisle.

Would today be like when he met with his grandparents, where he would wait a couple of hours before being allowed to leave? Because Harvey could think of a lot of better things to do with his time than sit there bored during a business lunch. And sure, most of those things involved Caleb in some way or another, but soon enough they'd both be going back to different schools and get no time together.

Harvey wasn't the clingy type, but when his boyfriend lived two hours away he totally became the clingy type.

Rounding a frustrated woman with a screaming baby, the sound of cans hitting the ground made his basket almost slip from his fingers as he jumped. At the end of the aisle, completely ignorant of the cans rolling around his feet, stood a man with…

A man with transparent skin.

Blinking slowly the man solidified again to reveal olive skin, Harvey swallowed nervously as the man's stare didn't move away from him. Hesitantly taking a couple of steps to the side as one of the market's workers appeared to start trying to clean up the mess, the man's eyes followed him and he decided to cut his losses and get the hell out of dodge.

Hearing a startled yelp from the employee as Harvey hurried towards the front of the store, something told him that the man was following him. Pulling out his phone as he went, he quickly dialled his Mum's number, using his free hand to get him through the self-service checkout.

"Mum. I need you to come pick me up. _Now_."


	2. Woge

"You know. You still haven't told me what was so terrifying you needed a lift so urgently."

Ignoring his mother for a moment, Harvey kept an eye on the road behind them, watching for any sign that the ghost man had followed. He didn't see anything, but that didn't mean much when he considered what _he_ was capable of with just a wave of his hand.

"Harvey?"

"There was a man following me," he answered finally. "I woged, Mum," he added when he heard the angry inhale coming from the driver's seat.

The car swerved sharply. "You said that stopped happening!" she exclaimed, "You _promised_!"

"I did! I meant it! I haven't woged for around a year now!" Harvey assured. "Besides, I can't just stop woging, I just haven't seen anything woge-worthy in a year."

Or rather, he hadn't seen anything woge-worthy that he told his parents about in years. In reality, he'd seen some kind of moving shadow that had devoured a stray cat and taken it away around five months ago. It'd ran when it 'noticed' him watching it though, so he'd only carried his knives around for a week or two.

"HARVEY!"

"What?" he snapped, fingers drifting to the thick ring on his finger. "The last time I woged I almost got eaten, I didn't want to risk it in the middle of the supermarket."

His mother didn't say anything else, his words hanging in the air between them. He still had the scars on his leg from the last time he'd 'woged', having taken the name straight from the TV show _Grimm_ , the big dog shimmering and turning into a snarling black beast that tried to take his foot off at the knee. The scars still ached sometimes, usually his way of telling there was a dog nearby and that he should run for Caleb or his parents. He'd never been afraid of dogs until one as big as a motorcycle took a bite out of him, and now sometimes he felt like he could barely breathe from something as stupid as watching _Van Helsing_ or _Underworld_. Not even the leather jacket that had appeared in the golden dust was worth the nightmares he still got, and that jacket was like Caleb-nip.

"Is today really that important that I need to stick around for the whole thing? I'd like to go practice some more."

His mother's expression told him all he needed to know, that no matter what happened he would be forced to stay and play the obedient normal son. "Today _really_ is that important," she stated with a sniff, "If it wasn't I'd let you avoid it like usual. But that's not an option this time, they've made it clear they expect to see you there. And it's about you anyway, so it's only fair that you're there for it."

"Say what?" Harvey blurted, head snapping around to stare at his mother in shock. About him? Who the hell did he know that would care about something like that? He was still a junior, so it wasn't like he'd be thinking about university until next year at the latest. And they 'expected to see him there'? What the hell did _that_ mean? "It's not a… you know…" he made a vague gesture, "Thing. Is it?"

His mother shot him a look.

"No, of course, it's not," he muttered, fingers itching for one of his knives. "Is it anything to do with school?"

"I'm sure I could find a way to connect the two," she edged.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Harvey asked.

His mother nodded. "You're getting warmer."

Sighing, Harvey twisted about so he was watching the road behind them again. "I'll just stop asking then."

"Good."

"This won't interfere with Caleb coming over tonight, will it?"

"Nope."

"Can I bring my knives?"

His mother snorted so violently the car almost swerved off the road again. "If I spot even a _glint_ of metal, you lose them for a month."

Rolling his eyes as the conversation between them dried up, Harvey continued worrying at his ring and watching for anything _odd_. For most families, 'odd' was a suspicious van or creepy people in trench coats walking around, and he honestly wished that was the extent of it for him. He had to worry about giant shadow dogs, about robot birds and apparently ghosts, one time he even swore he'd seen someone at his school grow furry legs and hooves. And naturally his parents thought he was going insane, there'd been several therapy sessions until the aforementioned giant dog tried to eat him on the beach _in front of_ them and Caleb.

"Get changed," came his mother's order the moment they pulled into the garage. "I want your best wedding clothes. I want you spotless, cleaner than spotless, disinfect yourself if you have to."

Unless she wanted him to wear his school uniform, the nicest clothes he had were some expensive as hell jeans Caleb bought him and his jacket. "I'll grab a quick shower first, then," Harvey agreed, making the woman nod in approval.

"Oh, and Harvey," she called as he threw open the door, half out of the car when he heard her voice. "If you don't comb your hair nicely, I'll cut it off. My son will not present himself as an ungroomed animal. Do you understand me?"

Staring at her for a moment, Harvey just smiled and shut the door. "Didn't catch that," he shouted through the closed window, "My ungroomed hair got in the way."

Good luck to her if she was serious, she'd have to fight Caleb for the rights to his hair and wardrobe. Caleb _loved_ his hair like this, not that he understood why, but his boyfriend had a real kink for him looking all macho jock-like. And since Harvey _was_ a jock, it wasn't that hard to make the look work, even if his parents hated the douche-style he kept his hair in. At the end of the day, he'd choose his boyfriend over his parents, especially when it was Caleb he'd be living with for the rest of his life. Also, Caleb was the one who could make him sleep on the couch until the day he died, he knew his priorities.

Hurrying away before his Mum could get out of the car and hurt him, Harvey headed straight up to his room. If he wanted to survive her, then he better do as she said. He didn't want to see what she'd do to him if he showed up looking like he was homeless. Also, if these people were actually coming to see him, then he better make a damned good impression.

Just in case.

He was still wearing his ring, though, he hadn't gone unarmed since the attack,

Just in case.

* * *

"They're here! _They're here_!"

Yay.

"Harvey!" Mum hissed, "Get the door! Politely!"

Joy.

Smoothing down his shirt and batting his mother's hands away from his hair, Harvey jogged over to the door and swung it open, admittedly a little curious as to who was coming.

"Caleb!"

Feeling himself light up like a rather pathetic spotlight at the sight of the shorter teen standing on the doorstep, Harvey grinned idiotically, stepping forward before freezing and half-shutting the door behind him. "You can't be here. Mum's having people over for lunch."

"You must be the 'Harvey' I've heard so much about," a loud voice cooed, hands latching onto his chin before he could even notice there were other people besides Caleb standing there. "So handsome, too. It's good to finally meet you."

"Uh, good to meet you too, Mrs Fletcher," Harvey replied politely on instinct, brushing his lips against the back of the hand offered to him. Yeah, hello again Geena. It's not like he had been over at her house last week to pick Caleb up so they could go see _'X-Men: First Class'_ together. "Caleb's told me a lot about you as well."

"Yeah, yeah," Caleb's father interrupted, "You've already admitted that you'd met Blair before, Geena, save it for the stage."

Wait… Caleb's _parents_ were here? _That_ was the important meeting he couldn't possibly miss on pain of death? _These_ were the people who had expected to see him? Suddenly he felt strangely naked without his jacket on, a quick glance at Caleb showing his partner was feeling the same thing he was.

Pure, unadulterated, _horror_.

"Mum, Dad. This is Harvey," Caleb introduced slowly, his father completely ignoring Harvey's outstretched hand to focus on the person coming up behind him. "Hey Liam," he added, only to jump in place as his father's arm jerked forward behind him, "I mean, Mr Blair."

His future father-in-law pushing his own son out of the way rudely to greet Harvey's own father, Harvey exchanged a look with Caleb who had the decency to look extremely guilty. "I'm sorry," came the whispered apology as his parents were ushered into the house, "Dad was in a mood and we had an argument. He said something about how I can never stick with a girl for longer than a month and I kinda threw you in his face."

"Three years is better than any of our friends," Harvey muttered despite the scream that wanted to burst its way from his chest.

"Mum said she wanted the lunch to be a surprise," Caleb explained as they moved towards the lounge, "And Dad said if you didn't look shocked when you opened the door I was grounded. Sorry."

Huh, of course, Caleb had known without telling him, he was an idiot. "That's cool, Cay, you know I don't-"

"Caleb. Come sit down please," Mr Fletcher cut in, sending his son a glare that had Harvey's hackles rising defensively.

Fighting the urge to sit in his customary seat – either in or sprawled across Caleb's lap – Harvey just moved to sit between his parents and met Mr Fletcher's disapproving look with his most blinding victorious smile. He hadn't won yet, but it was a matter of time, just a matter of technicality. He had Geena wrapped around his little finger, and he himself was usually wrapped around Caleb in some manner. If Mr Fletcher tried anything against either of them, his Mum and Dad would steal Caleb in a heartbeat and make the man hurt, rich businessman or not.

And if that didn't work, he would just kidnap Caleb and take him to New York, like those cheesy romance novels his father pretends he doesn't have hidden in his office.

"So, Harry," Mr Fletcher began, stressing the name that most certainly wasn't Harvey's. "How did you two meet?"

"He hit me with his car." A flicker of amusement flashed through the man's eyes, making him just as sadistic as Caleb had always claimed. "We've met before too, Sir, in the hospital. You threatened to have me diagnosed as 'suicidal' if I pressed charges for it," Harvey added, watching as a curl of Mr Fletcher's lips indicated that yes, he remembered too. "I remembered thinking you must have been a very good lawyer."

Caleb was twitching, hand covering his mouth as he leant against his mother, having been flirting hardcore with Harvey while this had been going down.

"Oh?" the man asked coldly.

"Of course, Sir," Harvey agreed, smile not fading yet. Maybe he shouldn't enjoy antagonising the man this much, but Mr Fletcher had done everything he could to make sure the dialogue just wrote itself. It was like something from one of his mother's soap operas. "You _must_ have been a good lawyer to be so confident about threatening me like that in front of a nurse, two doctors and a police officer, all without a licence to practice law."

It was a good thing Mr Fletcher had already decided to hate him. If he hadn't, reminding him of the trouble he'd gotten into for that would probably have only hurt his chances. Judging by the tensing of his parents on either side of him, though, they hadn't gotten that memo yet, the way Mum was pinching his arm warningly definitely showing they wanted to make a good impression.

"You and I remember that incident _very_ differently, it seems," Mr Fletcher replied emotionlessly.

"I think the law remembers it Harvey's way," Caleb piped up, throwing his lot in with Harvey as his father scowled at him. It was fine, Caleb was moving out next year anyway, and he wasn't planning on having anything to do with his dad after that. "These are lovely plates, Mrs Blair."

"They are," Geena said quickly, narrowing her eyes at her husband over Caleb's head, "So rustic, they're beautiful."

As their mothers started talking décor, their fathers glaring at each other from across the room, Harvey leant back in his seat and winked at Caleb. He should have expected this. They'd been together for three years, and while they weren't exactly screaming it from the rooftops they weren't hiding it from anyone bar Mr Fletcher. It was only a matter of time before he found out, anyway, even if Harvey would have liked a little warning first.

"Horatio," Mr Fletcher cut in, "Caleb was telling me you're on your school's baseball team. That's a hard career to get into, you'll need to do a _lot_ of work for it. Caleb and I should come see you play, we're both fans."

Eyes darting to a pre-emptively blushing Caleb, Harvey just smiled innocently. "Oh, Caleb already comes to watch me play. And it's not a career goal of mine, I just enjoy the sport. I also run track and swim, but that's just for fun too."

So, Mr Fletcher might show up to judge and mock him during a game, interesting. Still, he's guaranteed to play well with Caleb watching him – or rather, watching his ass in baseball pants – in the stands.

Caleb's his good luck charm. He'd need it today if so far was any indication.

* * *

"He doesn't like you," Caleb groaned, arms wrapping around Harvey's waist as he joined him at the kitchen counter. "I honestly thought he'd bitch and snipe and that would be it, but he _really_ doesn't like you."

Leaning back against the blond's body as he slipped the rest of the snacks onto a plate for the fridge, Harvey hummed thoughtfully. "He didn't like me before you came out to him, now he knows we're dating he just hates me."

A finger jabbed into his side accusingly. "You didn't help with the bitching back."

"Wouldn't have mattered, he thinks I'm too poor for you guys," Harvey shrugged, turning around in Caleb's arms to smile down at him.

"It's sad because it's true," Caleb admitted, hand somehow finding its way into Harvey's back pocket without him noticing. "You should have seen his face when I told him you went to public school."

"You should have seen _your_ face earlier; you were thinking about me in baseball pants, weren't you?" he accused, the flush spreading from Caleb's cheeks and down below his collar. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Refusing to acknowledge his comment, his partner's hand left his pocket and instead started messing up his neat hairstyle. Letting himself get petted for a moment, loving the feel of Caleb's hand in his hair, he grabbed the boy's other hand and started leading him towards the staircase.

"You won't win."

Grabbing Caleb by the arm and pushing him against the wall, internally mourning the loss of the fingers scratching his scalp, Harvey placed a finger on the other boy's lips and motioned for him to listen.

"Caleb will see reason," Mr Fletcher said, sounding as arrogant and annoying as he had when talking down to Harvey earlier.

"But will you?" Harvey's mother countered. "If Caleb gives you that ultimatum 'Both of us or none of us', will you make the right decision?"

There was a snort. "Caleb won't do that, I'm his father-"

"And Harvey is the boy he's decided he's going to spend the rest of his life with," Mum interrupted, "They're in love."

"Caleb is eighteen, and your boy's younger."

"They've been together for three years. No breaks, no major arguments. How long did it take you to decide Geena was it for you?"

This time Mr Fletcher didn't respond immediately, Harvey and Caleb exchanging a silent look that spoke millions. Caleb's parents had married after dating each other for only a year. And Harvey's had been dancing around each other since primary school if his grandparents were to be believed, and even then, they'd married after a year of actual dating. That they'd been together for three years and _hadn't_ married was longer than both of their parents combined.

"He'll see reason," Mr Fletcher said finally.

" _You_ better," Mum dismissed, "Or you won't see him again. Like you said, he's eighteen, and if he feels he's not welcome under your roof? Well, he already knows he's welcome under mine."

Caleb pressed a quick kiss to Harvey's jaw at that, neither of them acknowledging the way their hands were squeezing each other's so tight their knuckles had turned white. Caleb couldn't move in with them now, Harvey had _plans_. Caleb was supposed to go off to university, living in a dorm for the year before Harvey could join him, then they'd get a small apartment together and then get a fish. Or a hamster, they were fluffy and cuddly. Fish and hamsters were supposed to be good beginner's pets for a small newly formed family, so they didn't jump straight into getting a dog or having kids and stress themselves out.

Like he said, Harvey had plans.

"He won't do anything," Caleb whispered as someone slammed the front door, "Mum will kill him if he does. She loves you just as much as he hates you." The two of them stood there for a moment, arms around each other's waists as they listened for the direction Harvey's own parents were heading in. "I should go say goodbye," Caleb mumbled finally, pulling away and tugging at his shirt, "Just to be polite."

Letting out a sigh as Caleb vanished down the hall and out the front door as well, Harvey backed up a couple of steps to peer into the living room, watching his furious parents whispering to each other rapidly by the window. Well, it seemed like they had everything under control, he wasn't needed here. Heading up to his room again and mussing himself up, throwing his jacket over his now untucked shirt and clipping his knives into the waistband of his jeans, he glanced down through the window onto the front lawn, the sight of Caleb and his father in each other's faces making him stiffen. Should he open the window and say something? Nah, Caleb would only get annoyed if he stepped in now, as much as he loved having a bigger stronger boyfriend Harvey wasn't allowed to try protect him from _anything_.

Eventually, the two of them split apart, death glares on both their faces. Mr Fletcher stomping around to the other side of the car, throwing the door open and slamming it shut once he'd climbed in. Caleb however just pressed a kiss to his mother's cheek and grabbed his overnight bag, heading back inside at a jog. Quickly distracting himself with finding his game folder and checking over the scrawled 'minutes' of last game, Harvey listened to the dull drone of voices downstairs until loud footsteps started up the staircase. "You had healing spells prepared for this session, right?" he asked as he heard the door opening and shutting behind him. "I get the feeling I'm going to need a lot of them after last game."

"Yeah well, this time don't throw yourself off a-" when Caleb cut himself off, Harvey glanced over to see his eyes were locked on his arse, something tightening in his stomach at the thought. "You woged," he accused. Not arse, the knife hilts tucked in his belt, shit. "You haven't woged in _months_."

Pretending not to notice the way his partner trembled slightly and refused to finish the sentence, Harvey dropped his book onto the desk and hurried across the room, hands latching onto Caleb's gently. "Hey, relax. It might have been nothing, I only caught a glimpse, it could have been my imagination."

Caleb just stared at him, fear mixed with false courage in his eyes. "What was it?"

Harvey stared back, trying to subtly pull the back of his shirt over the hilts properly. "A ghost man," he confessed with a sigh, unable to resist Caleb when he was looking like _that_. "Not like invisible or anything, just transparent."

"Is that possible? I mean, you can do… you know. Could ghosts be real?"

He couldn't help but roll his eyes at Caleb, patting him on the chest before heading back to his desk. "It was nothing, we'll be fine. I just feel better having more on hand than just my ring," Harvey promised, able to see Caleb's unsure expression in the window's reflection. "You know me, I'm paranoid like that."

"Call your Mum," Caleb ordered, "Your birth one. She sent you that ring after the hellhound, remember? She might know what to do about this one."

Dropping his papers back down onto his desk, Harvey turned a look on his partner. "There's no need," he lied, praying internally that Caleb wouldn't pick up on this one, "I was overreacting, I know that. Besides, I have no idea where she is, she's always travelling and I haven't gotten a letter from her in almost a year now."

"And even if you could get in contact with her, it could take her days to get here, if she even came at all," Caleb finished.

"Exactly."

Caleb's sigh, despite being muffled, echoed throughout the entire room. "I… I don't want it to happen again," he confessed, "It makes me feel like an army wife, waiting to see if you'll come home from a war."

"It won't happen again," Harvey argued, "This time we're prepared for it. We won't freak out. I won't think dumping you is the best way to keep you safe, and _you_ won't think that locking me in your basement is the best way to keep _me_ safe."

His boyfriend shrugged, a sly grin growing on his face. "To be fair, I'm still kind of convinced that might work, if only for my own sanity."

"To be fair," he began slowly, pulling Caleb closer as he jumped up to sit on his desk. "To be fair," Harvey repeated, "I'm saner than _both_ of our D &D characters combined."

Caleb stared at him, blinking slowly. "Your character's a mercenary who worships the god of chaos and strife," he deadpanned, "If you were as insane as him, I'd dump you. Smexy boyfriends are good. Smexy boyfriends who kill people on a coin toss? Not so much."

Harvey chuckled, ducking his head to kiss the tip of Caleb's nose. "Cute, but we both know you wouldn't dump me."

"I know," Caleb confessed, shaking his head with a 'Why Me?' look on his face. "I'm _whipped_."

"So very whipped," Harvey confirmed, gently pushing Caleb away so he could grab his files again. "We've got a couple of hours before the game starts, what's on the itinerary until then?"

Watching as Caleb checked his watch, doing some calculations in his head, Harvey raised his eyebrows when his partner decided on a course of action. "We're going to go grab something to eat from the supermarket and then sneak it in to watch a movie," he declared, "I want to watch _'Captain America'_ and I'm not waiting for it to come out on disk."

"Oooh, Chris Evans is a honey," Harvey mused, admittedly more tempted than he wanted to be right now.

"I know, right?" Caleb agreed with a grin, "Or, you know, we could watch the last _'Twilight'_ movie instead." Silence echoed through his room for a moment before they were both laughing their heads off. "But seriously, you've leaving the knives at home," the blond ordered seriously, raising an eyebrow warningly when Harvey chuckled.

Well… shit.

* * *

"What the hell was _wrong_ with that movie?"

Caleb looked just as disturbed as he did, thankfully, a little green around the gills as he simply shook his head in disgust. Note to self, just because the movie you want to see isn't playing today, _do not_ choose to watch a new movie just because the guy on the poster is hot. It's a mistake.

"I mean, don't get me wrong," Harvey continued, "Henry Cavill shirtless is one of my new favourite things, but that _poor man_."

"You should never crush a man's junk like that," Caleb agreed weakly, flinching at just the memory of that scene. "Not a bad movie, still never going to watch it again."

Grabbing the blond teen's wrist to check his watch, Harvey just shuddered and nodded. "We've still got time, want to go erase that scene from our minds?"

"We're too young to buy alcohol," Caleb dismissed, sounding almost mournful of this fact.

Chuckling hesitantly, still feeling a little queasy, Harvey curled their hands together and started leading his partner down the street. "Well actually, I was thinking of something a little closer to-" Coming to a sudden halt, Caleb moving a few steps further before their linked hands stopped him, Harvey stared at the man standing at the entrance of the 7/11.

"Babe?"

Swallowing nervously as the man just watched them, Harvey stepped back and tugged Caleb after him. "Ghost man," he blurted, Caleb frowning for a moment before following his eyes to the storefront. "We should go home," he whispered quietly, "If we start a fight then we'll get arrested in a heartbeat."

Rule #12 of his unpublished book, _'Harvey Blair's Guide to Not Getting Shanked in a Dark Alleyway'_. Always pick your battlegrounds, if the location doesn't suit, change it. He'd followed that rule ever since it came to mind, and he was one of the better strategy/war gamers he knew (not a major feat, really).

Caleb stared at him in disbelief, confusion flashing across his face before his eyes turned back to the man in understanding. "Of course, a city-wide ban on magic being used in public," he agreed before adding "Nerd," under his breath.

"I'm not pulling a knife in the middle of town," Harvey shot back, the man's skin rippling sharply as the store behind him became visible through his body for a moment. His house was safer, a dark alleyway on the way was safer, and anywhere Caleb wasn't was safest.

Making a wounded noise in the back of his throat, Caleb started backing away faster. "I just woged," he blurted, "Oh god, I woged."

Tightening his grip on Caleb's hand, Harvey tugged slightly to get his attention, trying to communicate exactly what he wanted. As the Ghost-Thing took a step towards them, Harvey spun and they both broke into a run, heavy footsteps echoing behind them.

"At least," Caleb gasped out, "At least it's not a giant wolf this time!"

* * *

 ** _AN/_ I do not, naturally, own Percy Jackson and the Olympians or anything else belonging to Rick Riordan.**


	3. Avenger

"MUM! DAD!"

The door slammed open with a loud crack as he opened it without slowing, Caleb almost tripping over him as Harvey lost his balance, staggering for a moment before continuing to run inside.

"MUM!"

"Did you just call my mum 'Mum'?" Harvey blurted as they fell into the living room, his parents breaking apart with loud squawks.

"Boys!" his Mum exclaimed as Dad quickly buttoned up his shirt, "I uh."

"Mum, you've walked in on us doing worse," Harvey interrupted quickly, "This is _really_ not the time."

"I woged," Caleb said bluntly as his parents stuttered and Harvey hurried over to the window to peer outside. "We were leaving the movies, and there was a man there, and we woged on him. He was transparent, not like invisible, like ghosty."

"I… what?"

Had his parents always been this daft? Caleb's explanation was perfect for Harvey, the ring on his finger sitting heavy as he waited for the ghost to catch up with them. "The man from the supermarket," he cut in, his mother's eyes darting to him as her mouth fell open, "He was waiting for us outside the cinema. We both woged. I think we lost him, though."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Caleb confessed, hands on his knees as he panted for air desperately. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he promised as Harvey appeared at his side immediately, "I'm just really, _really_ unfit."

"Bullshit, I like you all twinky," Harvey corrected, rubbing his boyfriend's back as his father took his place at the window. Caleb wasn't as sporty as he was, and after having to run around ten blocks without stopping to get home, he was probably just a little out of breath. Or a lot. Caleb would do a lot of things for him, but regular non-bedroom related exercises weren't any of them. "I bet you wish you let me keep my knives now, huh?" he taunted, flinching away as Caleb shot him a dark look for his daring.

"Liam, this is twice in one day," Harvey's mother said slowly, nervously fluttering around the room, unsure what to do.

"It's the same guy, though," his Dad argued, "So it only really counts as one time. And I don't see anyone outside, so he hasn't followed them home."

"Does it matter how many times a day it is?" Harvey asked incredulously, looking between his parents in disbelief. "I can't wear shorts anymore without people seeing the scars, surely the fact that this _thing_ is here is more worrying? What next? I get a scar on my chest and have to wear a shirt all the time or have you guys under suspicion of child abuse _again_?"

If it weren't for a young lawyer looking for a breakthrough case to kickstart her career, Harvey could have lost both of his parents that day, the police apparently unwilling to consider the canine bite marks (broken off dog tooth included) came from a dog as opposed to abusive parents.

"I hope not," Caleb wheezed, "I like your chest."

"Thanks, babe," Harvey grinned as his father cleared his throat.

"Can we not do that disgusting little love bird thing you two do right now?" the man cut in, "Casper the Friendly _Fucking_ Ghost is about to come bursting through my front door any minute now to try to kill my sons, we need to get out of here."

"It's not Casper," Caleb corrected as he finally straightened up again, "It's more like… Harry Potter."

"Yeah, I never really got into that series," Harvey muttered, making his boyfriend pull a face at him.

"HEY!" Dad shouted, making them both jump, "Harvey? What do you have?"

Staring at his father for a moment before finally clicking as to what he meant, Harvey racked his brain and guided Caleb over to sit on the couch. "I've got my knives," he said weakly, "And uh, maybe telekinesis?"

" _Maybe_?" came the chorus of replies.

"I play a psychic fighter," Harvey exclaimed defensively, "Most of my battle tactics revolve around charging into battle and killing people with my brain!"

"Harvey, this is _not_ D &D!" his Mum reminded sharply, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them slightly. "This is real life."

"Psychics don't exist in 'real life', Mum," Harvey snapped back, "Nor do hellhounds or ghosts, or _half_ the things that have attacked me since this shit-storm started. And since _you_ won't let me learn martial arts, I'm stuck with three knives and shitty telekinesis that can't pick up a dog, let alone a person!"

His mother stared at him in a mixture of shock and horror, backing up to sit down beside Caleb. At least now she'd agree to let him have proper fighting lessons. She'd argued for _weeks_ after Dad had caved and bought him some cheap throwing knives, if he hadn't used them to knock a dive-bombing metal bird out of the sky the very next week she'd have thrown them away before he could stop her.

"It doesn't matter," she insisted weakly, "Because you're not fighting it. Pack a bag, we're leaving, we can stay the night in a hotel in the city, pretend that we're taking a small vacation or something."

Ignoring the woman as he plotted, Harvey started pacing back and forth across the room, fidgeting with his ring as he went. As stupid as it sounded, unlike his character he couldn't really last in a stand-up fight. Without his psionics, armour, huge freaking greataxe and Caleb's cleric protecting him, he'd die. But there was no way he was bringing a decidedly non-magical Caleb into a fight with this guy, he'd rather take on a million ghost things than risk Caleb like that. No, his father was right, there was no way he was fighting this thing. Running and hiding until it was gone was the best option for all of them, it definitely meant fewer injuries for his parents and Caleb. He'd contact his birth mother when everything was safe, ask for help either defending against future _things_ or for just hiding from them. And if he wanted to survive long enough to actually have a future with Caleb, he'd need both.

"Harvey."

Almost bumping into Caleb's chest as he turned around to find the other teenager standing in front of him, he stood stiffly as raised hands cupped either side of his jaw. "You've got this; I know you do. You took out Darius and his wife on your _own_ , remember? You can take out one transparent man."

"Mum's right, that's just a game."

"So?" Caleb countered, "Harvey Jay Blair, you are _twice_ as strong as Crichton. You're good with a knife, you can move things with your mind, and-"

"I'm a seventeen-year-old with a knife," Harvey interrupted, "I can't hurt a _ghost_ with a _knife_. I can't protect you."

Caleb faltered, licking his lips nervously. "I'll stay with your parents then; I'll only get in the way otherwise. You can do this."

" _Caleb_! No!" Harvey's mother exclaimed, "You are _not_ encouraging him to do this!"

"Too late," his Dad said from the window, "Not only will Harvey do anything Caleb tells him to do, but if this one's anything like the others it'll need to be killed to get rid of it. We'll head out the back. _Stay safe_ ," the man ordered, taking his wife and Caleb by the arm, "If it looks like you're going to lose, or you're going to get hurt, then get out of there. I don't care what that bastard does to the house, so long as you're alive we can rebuild."

Watching his parents drag Caleb towards the kitchen and the back door beyond, Harvey ran for the staircase and burst into his bedroom, snatching up the sheaths for his throwing knives and once again clipping them to the back of his pants. Barely taking a moment to grab his baseball bat as well, he hurried downstairs, barely slowing down on the staircase as ducked for cover at the corner.

He hadn't been lying when he said all he could really do was telekinesis. Sure, he could use a knife as well as any other – assuming that the other people weren't like martial arts experts who used a knife as naturally as breathing – but nothing came to him as easily as telekinesis. It'd first happened back when he was twelve, back before he'd even known that things like this were possible, making things move whenever he got emotional. It'd taken a year before he'd figured out that he could do more than make things shake when he got angry, that a lot of hard work would make it possible to do other things to, and even that had been an accident when he'd been too tired to get out of bed. But it wasn't a weapon, he could throw things at people and occasionally throw people, but he was no Jean Grey or Alma Wade.

After a quick glance towards the kitchen to see the back door was definitely closed, Harvey shuffled over to peer around the corner. The see-through man was standing in the doorway, staring straight at him with an amused look on his face. "You know," came the echoing voice as Harvey ducked back far too late, "Even if I _couldn't_ feel you like you were one of my own limbs, I could hear your elephant stampede impression coming down the stairs."

Kicking himself, Harvey stepped out into the living room and hefted his bat, holding it between himself and the ghost warningly. He didn't need to wait all that long, just long enough to give his parents and Caleb long enough to get away.

"Relax, I'm not the one you need to be worried about," the ghost announced with a lazy yawn, "You've got maybe five minutes before She gets here, and since you can finally see me, it means I've got that long to teach you what I can."

"I- what?"

"Jay Morris, demigod and ghost, at your service," he continued, moving through the couch as Harvey backed away.

"Ghost? _Ghost_?" Harvey blurted as 'Jay Morris' nodded. Right, a knife really _wouldn't_ have an effect on this bastard after all. "Why? Why now? Why are you following me?"

Jay rolled his eyes, dropping down onto the sofa and pulling a dagger from up his sleeve to pick at his nails with. "Not now, _always_. I've been keeping an eye on you since you were born because it's my job. I keep you alive, I get a second chance at life. Until today though you've never been able to see me. Now, do you really think that a stick is going to have any effect on the Avenger?"

"This stick is all I've got," Harvey snapped, still edging away from this 'helpful ghost'. "And who's the 'Avenger'?"

"Tisiphone the Avenger, one of the three Kindly Ones, one of the lieutenants of the God of Death. Bad news," Jay explained, standing and bouncing in place slightly, wandering over to the window and keeping an eye on the road through it. "You may have taken out hellhounds, Stymphalian birds, giant snakes. But the Avenger is _way_ out of your league. Also, I've been keeping an eye on you since you were born," he added, "I think it goes without saying I know you've got more than a baseball bat up your sleeve"

The Kindly Ones? The God of Death? Jay had said 'demigod' earlier too, and Harvey was starting to freak out a little. Psychic powers were one thing, monsters were another, but gods and demigod ghosts? He wanted to crawl under his bed and just hide there until everything went away and left him alone. Feeling his heartbeat beginning to speed up, adrenaline rushing through his system, Harvey took a slow deep breath and imagined everything slowing down until he felt calm enough to open his eyes (not that he remembered shutting them) to see Jay watching him in approval.

One thing at a time. Jay wasn't hostile right now, and this 'Telephone' creature was. "How do I kill her?"

"You'll need to ambush her. She's stronger, faster, and smarter than you, and she can track your scent through a sewer in the middle of summer. Running would only give you an hour at best," the taller man said quickly, "And she'll play with you, which should give you an advantage over her, she's a torturer and will want to make your death as painful as possible."

Ambushing? Shit. He was more or less a straight up fighter, ambushing and stealth weren't part of his playbook.

"Her talons are the most dangerous parts of her, but her wings should be a weak point if you can avoid her claws and mouth," Jay listed, stepping forward to grab Harvey's arm, hands freezing cold but unbelievably solid as they shifted his grip on his knife and mimed stabbing himself in the armpit. "If you can, drive a knife into her ribs, aim for her heart from the side or behind. Face on puts you in range of her claws, we don't want that. Don't try to wrestle her, or overpower her. Strike hard, strike fast, and then _run_. You're on your own for this, she can't know I'm here or she'll blow my cover and I'll be dragged back to the Underworld and thrown in Tartarus, job done well or not. You can do this," he insisted, squeezing Harvey's wrist slightly, "Just trust in your instincts, in your body, in your powers. We're sons of Ares, you more distantly than me, but we can fight anything."

That was the problem. Harvey's instincts were telling him to ditch this shady ghost and run, that this was a bad idea, and that he really just needed Caleb and nothing else to survive. He didn't know who to trust, or what. Dropping his bat purposely onto the coffee table, within easy telekinetic reach of anywhere in the room, he ran a hand through his short hair and slipped one of his throwing knifes up his sleeve when Jay wasn't looking.

Trying to focus on the situation at hand – said situation being the torturer for the God of Death hunting his arse – Harvey moved around the living room nervously, trying to find a smart place to get the drop on this 'Fury'. He didn't need to be that close to her, he could use telekinesis and a throwing knife with ease, but he needed somewhere he could see from without being seen in. His house was a place to _live_ in, dammit, not a bloody assassin's wet dream. Giving up on clever hiding places, he just ran for the staircase, barely making it before the front door was blasted off its hinges and came to a rest not far from where he was crouching dumbly, knife in one hand and his cell phone in the other. Using the reflection in his phone's screen, the device thankfully still off from the movie he'd watched barely an hour prior, Harvey watched the shape in the doorway step into his house.

The Fury was an elderly woman, one looking more like a school teacher or a nun than some 'Avenger', with mousy brown hair and a hideously unturned nose. She didn't look at all like a threat to him, looking fragile and weak, which only set off his fight or flight instincts even more. Abnormally large nostrils flared as the woman looked around the room slowly, sounding like she was trying to suck everything in the room up through her nose. "I can smell you, boy," she growled, the sound sending shivers down his spine, "No matter how you try muffle your scent, I can still… smell… _YOU_!"

Flinching as the Fury turned and slashed at the curtains, her hand transforming into a grey leathery claw, Harvey watched in growing horror as razor-sharp talons sliced through the heavy fabric as if it were made of paper. She snarled and whipped around again, staring around the room furiously as her skin just tore away, two sets of long bat-like wings spreading as she took off and used more of those bone-chilling talons to shred the other curtain. Right, he wouldn't last a minute in a face-to-face fight with her.

" _FOOLISH HALF-BREED! I WILL FIND YOU_!"

Not giving her a chance to make good on her unspoken threat, Harvey stepped out and threw in the same movement, his knife sinking into the stomach of the turning creature who just shrugged it out as he ran like a little bitch. Darting into the kitchen as the Fury slammed into the hallway wall, a wave of his hand had whatever wasn't nailed down on the kitchen counter flying down the corridor, the monster letting out a shriek of rage in response.

Right. Knife? Not so useful. It was a good thing that Harvey was so skilled in all other forms of combat as well. Okay, so the only thing he was better at than sarcasm was sports – sports and Caleb. But he'd come up with something, he was a tactician, the strategy guy in his party. And maybe he'd only started playing D&D because Caleb had been half-dressed and batting his puppy dog eyes, but he was _good_ at it, strategy and chaos were his things. Just because his knife didn't work on her the first time didn't mean it wouldn't work if he tried it differently, maybe he could use telekinesis to strangle her like Darth Vader or something? He'd figure something out, if he survived long enough.

Rubbing his thumb over his ring and focusing, he caught the bronze dagger that swirled into his hand in a spiral of smoke, circling through the kitchen and back into the living room. The wall beside him shattering as he paused for his throwing knife, Harvey yelped and raised his arms defensively as the Fury charged him, screaming as talons raked across his forearms and chest with enough force to flip him over the couch.

Wait…

 _What_?

Gasping and patting down his arms for a moment, unblemished leather gleaming in the light, he mentally flung his bat as the Fury jumped onto the back of it, tackling her off as talons once again clawed uselessly at his chest and stomach. His jacket? How the hell did his _jacket_ come out unscathed when his curtains were turned into rags? Grateful for the protection on his back when the flailing Fury slashed at it, he smashed his forehead into her bat-like nose, rewarded with a howl of pain as his knife flew back into his hand. Twisting and stabbing it into her thigh, it felt like his eardrums exploded with the sheer volume of her scream, getting kicked off as the Fury exploded into the air and smashed through the living room window.

Alright, so _that_ knife worked. But getting close enough was the problem, if it was his jacket that kept him alive, then his face and legs were still vulnerable. And if the Fury was as smart as Jay claimed, then she'd figure that out too.

Drawing both of his throwing knifes and dropping them, a moment of concentration had them lifting back up into the air, beginning to orbit around Harvey slowly. He'd spent months learning how to do this without having to focus his full attention on it, months of Caleb throwing tennis balls at him until he managed six of them bobbing around him like small moons. It hadn't been done with floating weapons in mind, but he wasn't going to deny a fun tactic when he saw one, especially when his mental reactions were twice as fast as his physical ones.

" **You know what to do."**

Pausing and looking down at the bloodied knife he was still holding, Harvey raised his hand and willed it to float into the air above his palm, spinning it around slowly. He needed a bigger knife, a sword, one that had the reach this one lacked. His baseball bat was great, so a baseball sword? Something he could put his strength behind the swing for. Feeling his blood pumping fast and hard, beginning to burn slightly, Harvey concentrated again and just _willed_ , shifting his stance to accommodate the weight of his rapidly growing knife as it went from a simple dagger into a beautifully engraved sword nearly a metre long and landed in his hand again.

That… that wasn't telekinesis.

A heavy flapping sound drew his attention back to the real world, his body turning and falling into a stance that he didn't know he knew, bringing the sword around with every bit of strength he had poured behind the swing.

The Fury – 'Tisiphone' some detached part of his brain provided – screamed once more, both hand and feet talons outstretched towards his face even as its momentum brought Harvey's new sword into and through its stomach, bisecting it right between both sets of wings. Dark gold dust exploded into his face, and like an idiot he inhaled deeply, choking and coughing as his own momentum brought him round in a circle before dropping him into a tangled mess on the floor. Letting out a strange mixture of a sob and a laugh, he couldn't even gather the energy to care as an invisible wind blew the dust pile he was sitting in into nothingness, leaving behind only him and an ugly looking scrap of wing-leather.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring at the leather and fighting the trembling in his hands, but a glimpse of movement had them stilling immediately as he raised up to his knees, sword pulling back already.

" _Shit_ ," Jay exhaled weakly, dropping to his knees just outside of the reach of Harvey's sword. "Dad must really like you, that's a nice-looking blade."

Eyes flicking to it for a moment, Harvey pushed himself to his feet and tested its weight carefully. "Unless you want a closer look, I think it's time for you to leave now," he ordered, the ghost too lost in thought to respond as he stared at the sword with a longing expression on his face. "Hey! Scram!"

Jay frowned up at him as he stepped closer, confused for a second before rolling his eyes again. "I was there when you were born, kid, I've been there for every minute of your life from your first steps to your first kiss. I'm planning on sticking around until you're old and grey, sitting next to Caleb in some old fuck's home," he dismissed as he too stood, backing away. "Besides, your mother's a goddess, she's capable of a lot worse than waving a sword in my face. You're stuck with me."

"She's not the one currently waving a sword in your face," Harvey countered, hefting it as if to remind the other man of its presence.

"I'm a ghost," Jay deadpanned, "Even if you _could_ kill me, you're not going to do it with a sword that _my father_ gave you, favourite grandson or not."

That gave Harvey pause, the tip of his sword sagging for a bit before the entire thing shrank back down to his original knife in the space of a heartbeat. "Grandson? I'm his grandson?" he said slowly, making the ghost nod, "I'm the demigod grandson of the Greek God of War?"

The other demigod – his uncle? – shook his head. "You're a demigod because your mother is a goddess. Your grandfather being the Greek God of War only makes you a _legacy_ , and it makes your father a demigod as well."

"Family trees. Confusing, aren't they?" a new voice asked, filled with humour as the doorbell rang a cheery tune.

Twisting the knife around in his grip and turning to put both Jay and the newcomer in his line of sight, Harvey's arm dropped again as he started to wonder when exactly he'd gone insane. "Nathan Fillion?"

The postman beamed happily. "I know, right?" he agreed, turning his face to the 'horizon' and striking a pose. "I get that a lot, it's a curse looking like one of the world's most handsome men, don't you think?"

Oh yeah. He was insane. It was official. "I dunno, I wouldn't mind looking like Chris Evans."

The Nathan Fillion look-a-like hesitated, "Oooh, he _is_ a honey, isn't he?"

Staring at the clearly fantasising man, Harvey flexed his hand and shifted his grip on his knife, not sure he'd be able to last very long if this man turned out to be Jay's accomplice in his future murder.

"Right!" the man exclaimed suddenly, making both Harvey and Jay jump. "I've got something for you," he explained, digging through the satchel at his side, the bright yellow _UPS_ scrawled across its face. "Here we go," he said slowly, holding out a small tube between his fingers and staring down it at Harvey, "I think this is for you."

Nervously taking the unmarked tube, Harvey watched as the postman backed away from him without breaking eye contact. "You should really fix your door too," he added, "I tried knocking, but I guess you couldn't hear me." And then the man was gone, running off down the street quick as a bullet as laughter echoed through the air behind him.

He was pretty sure this entire encounter was actually weirder than the whole 'You see dead people and a Greek myth is trying to kill you' episode he'd just been through, and that was saying something.

Looking down at the tube in his hands as he backed himself into the corner, keeping an eye on Jay, Harvey used his knife to pry open the lid and tipped the scroll inside into his hand. Who the hell wrote _scrolls_ these days? Scrolls made out of what might be parchment, too. Checking the inside of the tube for anything else, he shoved the tube into his pocket and unfurled the scroll curiously, pausing to watch as Jay squatted by the scrap of Fury leather to poke at it.

 _Delphi Strawberry Service, Farm Road 3.131. Long Island, New York 11954._

 _Ask your parents._

Frowning as he turned the scroll over to find the back blank, just the simple address written in a strangely familiar cursive, he dropped the parchment and raised his knife again as the backdoor slammed open.

"Harvey? _Harvey_!"

Lowering his knife, which had turned into a sword again in the time it'd taken to bring up in the first place, Harvey just spread his arms out to the side in time for his shorter boyfriend to slam into his chest. "It's fine, it's gone," he blurted as his parents peered through the hole in the kitchen-longue wall, "I uh, I killed it."

Pulling away from his slightly, Caleb looked between the sword in Harvey's white-knuckled hand and then down at where their waists were touching. "Is that a sword in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

"It's a tube," he corrected dumbly, the once-again knife vanishing into smoke as he released it to pull out the scroll tube. "But I'm always happy to see you." Dropping the tube to pull Caleb back, Harvey tightened his grip on his boyfriend and buried his nose in his short blond hair, glaring past it at Jay when the man scoffed and made a gagging noise.

Discarded throwing knife flying into his hand again when Caleb made a startled noise, twisting about to stare at Jay in growing horror, he watched as the ghost raised a hand and slowly moved it back and forth as Caleb's eyes followed it. "How can your boytoy see me? _You_ shouldn't be able to see me, let alone _him_ ," Jay demanded, frowning as he straightened up again.

"I thought you said you killed it?" Caleb whispered, for once not arguing as Harvey shifted to put himself between his boyfriend and the current threat.

"'It' was a Fury, 'Jay' is a ghost that decided to follow me around because he's my Uncle," he introduced as Jay waved.

Caleb's grip tightened around his waist as he and Jay stared at each other, Harvey watching from the corner of his eye as his mother moved forward to pick up the scroll on the floor, unrolling it with a look of despair already on her face.

"Liam." His father just glanced at the address on the scroll with a resigned expression, Harvey's eyes narrowing as the man shook his head and tried to subtly pocket it.

"Dad," he called, watching the man jump as if he'd been caught committing a crime. "I think we need to talk."


	4. Barrier

The scrap of Fury leather burned a hole in his pocket.

Knuckles white around the knife in his lap, he came into contact with the uncomfortable heat every time the car hit a pothole in the road. While all the other 'spoils of war' that he'd earned before now were merely body temperature, the piece of Fury was just on the border between warm and hot, something Caleb had already complained about when he tried to lounge across Harvey's lap the night before during Jay's lacklustre 'Demigods 101' speech.

Sitting uncomfortably in the backseat, pinned between his snoring boyfriend on one side and the annoying incorporeal ghost on his other, Harvey tried to avoid making eye contact with either of his parents sitting in the front seat.

Last night had been tense, his father trying to make excuses about why he couldn't explain anything, while his mother fluttered around the house distracting herself with cleaning up after the fight. When he'd finally gotten an explanation, it'd been from Jay who'd cursed up a storm before 'sitting' on the couch and beginning a long and awkward conversation about how he was adopted and his parents were members of the fucked up incestuous Greek pantheon. If he hadn't known he was adopted for as long as he could remember, there probably would have been shouting involved with how tactless Jay's reveal was.

Although, there _had_ been shouting last night.

Eventually Caleb had dragged him up to his bedroom and they'd hid, letting his father try to repair the broken door, wall, and window alone while his mother tried futilely to look up and perform an exorcism to get rid of Jay. As far as he was concerned, Caleb was a lot better at the explaining thing that his parents or Jay were, and he'd only had access to the internet. Caleb was also better at calming him down after the events of the day had come crashing down, but he'd rather nobody else tried to calm him down by sticking their tongue down his throat.

He'd known Caleb had a thing for baseball pants and jocks, but apparently a sweaty sword-wielding Harvey was also one of his boyfriend's perverted kinks. They were a match made in heaven, or whatever the Greek equivalent of heaven was.

Grunting as the car hit a sharp pothole and Caleb's head bounced off the door, Harvey grabbed his discarded jacket and slipped it under his pouting boyfriend's head. "Be careful," he warned, "If you break that, then you'll have to resort to being a brainless jock like me."

"I consider myself lucky you're smart enough to speak in more than grunting and pointing," Caleb muttered, shifting away from the door to curl against his side instead.

"Hey! You love the grunting."

Caleb snorted, "I love the possessiveness, I could do without your obssession with my- "

"NO!"

Both of them freezing and glancing up at the parents Harvey had forgotten were even there, he shrunk back slightly under his mother's furious look. "NO! I do _not_ want to hear _anything_ about what you two get up to in bed, it's bad enough you're shameless enough to shop for supplies in front of me. I don't need to hear about it too!"

"We walked in on you two making out on the couch," Caleb said slowly, Harvey nodding in agreement before sending Jay a death glare when the ghost opened his mouth to talk. "You're not ones to talk. Not even _we're_ done that."

Yes. Yes, they had. But for the sake of the argument, they were both obviously developing selective memories.

"That doesn't count, you weren't supposed to be home for a while yet. And there are limits," his mother defended, "There are things we share, and things we keep to ourselves."

"And being a demigod is which one of those again?" Harvey asked bluntly, his mother flinching back violently. "Yeah… that's what I thought."

Bloody hell, he'd have thought his parents would have told him about this 'demigod' business back when he'd first developed his powers, not waiting until he'd almost died (again) and for someone else to set the ball rolling.

Oh, Christ, he was a demigod.

"Harvey," Caleb's voice cut in, "Calm down, I can feel your heartbeat speeding up."

Smiling weakly down at the blond as he slipped a hand up Caleb's shirt to rest it on warm skin, Harvey tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling, closing his eyes after a moment to focus himself.

Demigod. As much as the term terrified him, it felt like a puzzle piece being pressed into place. Like he should have known it already, like the word just was just hanging out of reach, on the tip of his tongue. His birth mother, on the rare occasion that she'd sent a letter, had never given him hint nor suggestion that she was anything more than someone who had experience fighting hellhounds and other baddies. And as mad as he wanted to be that she hadn't said anything (because she was the goddess that _made_ him a demigod), he couldn't really comment when his own _parents_ hadn't said anything either, both of them perfectly happy to keep him in the dark. On one hand, if they'd told him then he would have had to leave for this 'Camp' a lot earlier, leaving Caleb behind. On the other hand, armour was apparently one of his boyfriend's many 'interests', and Harvey would still be allowed to come back during the school year so they could be together.

Right now, though, he wasn't sure. It could apparently take all year for him to be considered trained enough to be allowed to leave the Camp for home, one of the reasons his parents hadn't wanted for him to leave just yet. And with the school year just beginning the very next day, Harvey would have to be pulled out at the last minute for a 'finishing school' or something, if this Camp even had normal subjects being taught there so he could get his qualifications to get into college next year. If Caleb hadn't told him to go, then he probably would have refused. In Caleb's eyes, being apart for a year and coming back trained, was better than staying together and being killed by the next thing that shows up.

He didn't want to admit that Caleb was right.

"We're getting close," came the warning from the driver's seat, his father not having turned around during their earlier argument. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

No, not in the slightest.

Looking down at Caleb, whose eyes were closed in peaceful yet fake slumber, Harvey nodded. He could deal with being away from Caleb for a year. (He couldn't). He wasn't _that_ whipped. (He was). He could survive sleeping in a strange bed presumably surrounded by strange people without Caleb snuggled up beside him. (Definitely not). And not everything in his life revolved around Caleb, he was just panicking and trying to focus on the guy he loved. (Bit of both, really.)

"Yeah, it is."

His mother made a sad noise in the passenger's seat but didn't comment, his father remaining as silent as he'd fallen after Harvey's anger-filled reaction to the truth. The only real reaction to his decision was Caleb's, hand reaching up to link tightly with the one Harvey had hidden beneath his shirt.

They drove for a couple more minutes before pulling into a long driveway, a faded sign declaring _'Delphi Strawberry Service'_ on the side of the gravel path. Beyond that Harvey could see row upon row of fields, all of them covered in neat green bushes with carefully placed nets above them to keep the birds away. Looking past the fields, to the forest he could see behind it, he helped Caleb sit up so they could both peer out the window curiously, Harvey frowning slightly as he turned back to the front of the car.

 _This_ was Camp Half-Blood? There was nothing here but strawberry fields and a big blue farmhouse at the end of the driveway. From what Jay had told him, Harvey had been led to expect legions of Greek demigods fighting each other with swords and bows, to expect giant temples to the Olympian gods he'd had a crash course on last night. As the car pulled up into one of the parking spaces, Harvey couldn't see even a sword-shaped _object_ , let alone an actual sword.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" he couldn't help but ask as Caleb flung open the door and climbed out of the car, leaving Harvey to follow as his parents did the same.

"I don't know," Dad confessed, pulling his bag from the trunk and throwing it to him, "I've never been before, we were only told where to find it. And this _is_ the right address," he added, pointing to the sign on the building identifying this correctly as the strawberry service.

"But… but there's nothing here," he dismissed, dropping the bag to the gravel and taking a couple of steps closer to a sign he could see on the fence near th- _thunk_.

"Harvey?"

Blinking the tears away from his eyes as he felt the ground beneath his feet lurching, he shook his head with an exhaled "Son of a bitch. I just… hit something?"

Ignoring Caleb's confused call, Harvey reached out a hand and stepped forward again cautiously, expecting it this time when his hand pressed up against an invisible warm wall that shifted beneath his fingers. Pushing a little harder, and feeling the ground shifting again, he hit the ground with a yelp as the wall jerked back like a rubber band and sent him flying.

"There's a wall there, an invisible one, I can't get past it."

Caleb walked past him, dodging out of the way of Harvey's grab, stepping right through where the barrier had been without issue. "I don't see any wall, invisible or otherwise. There's just strawberries."

"He's right, Harvey," his mother mumbled, sniffing the air, "It even smells like strawberries."

Strawberries had a smell?

Shaking it off, Harvey tried to move forward again, the ground instantly shaking as he hit the wall. "Do you feel that? The ground is shaking whenever I touch the wall."

A hand landed on his back and shoved him forward, smacking his face into the wall as he immediately bounced off again. "Huh, there _is_ a wall," his Dad mused thoughtfully, ignoring Harvey's glare. "Hey, that proves that this is the right place. An invisible wall that only you can touch? That sounds like magic to me, don't you think?"

He _guessed_.

"I'll admit, I've never seen this reaction before," Jay muttered behind him, "Demigods can just walk straight through the barrier, it's monsters that get held back by it."

"So? How do I get in?"

The ghost shrugged, "Maybe the war shields have been activated? I don't know, it's been years since I've been here, things were a lot more peaceful back then."

Shoving at the wall again, Harvey paused for a moment to gauge where it was before drawing his fist back and punching it, feeling the warm field bending beneath his hand but not breaking.

"Harvey? Maybe that isn't the best idea, we should just head inside and ask for help."

"And how am I going to do that?" Harvey countered, gesturing at the wall in front of him, "I can't exactly get to the building, can I?"

His father muttering under his breath about moody teenagers, the man strode past them all and started towards the big building, Harvey's mother hurrying after as Caleb lingered near Harvey himself.

"You're being a dick again, it's not a good look on you."

"Well, is 'demigod' a good look on me? Because that's apparently what I am," Harvey snapped, grimacing immediately and reaching for Caleb's hand.

"You know that doesn't matter to me," Caleb reminded, pulling away in silent punishment. "You're the only person here who seems to care that much. Your parents didn't send you back to the agency when they found out, did they? And I certainly didn't even _think_ about dumping you on that beach three years ago. Why do you care about this so much? I would have figured you'd be glad to finally figure out what you can do is normal."

"But it's not, is it? I'm only like, one quarter human, and because of that I'm going to be in danger for the rest of my life!" Harvey exclaimed, "I'm part-human, Caleb! I was expecting some kind of great conspiracy about psychics being real and hidden from the government! I was not expecting some bullshit announcement by my parents around five years too _late_ telling me that 'Hey, btws, you're part-god'!"

"Okay first," Caleb began, holding up a finger, "Did you really just say 'btws' as an actual word? And second," he added as Harvey opened his mouth, "How is this any different? Psychics, magic, the Greek gods, _whatever_. It's still some kind of big conspiracy, and can you honestly tell me you wouldn't be in danger anyway if it were just psychics and hellhounds?"

No, he couldn't. But that didn't mean he was just going to let this slide. Harvey was certain he deserved some righteous indignation to the idea most of his life had been a lie. Turning away from an annoyingly smug Caleb, he cracked his knuckles and drew his hands back to gather some energy behind his fist. "I really do love you Caleb, but sometimes you can be-"

"A real pain in the ass? I know babe, you've told me that before."

Punching the wall in response, Harvey heard the sound of Caleb's gasp as the invisible wall became visible suddenly, a fraction of the weakly glowing white-blue wall _shattering_ into thousands of pieces and leaving a hole large enough for the two of them to walk through side by side.

Oops… he didn't think he'd hit it that hard.

"Did you just break the magical force field they most likely set up to protect themselves?" Caleb deadpanned behind him.

"Caleb… _look_."

Staring through the hole as his boyfriend came up beside him, Harvey's eyes shifted between the illusion of strawberry fields on either side of the forest visible through the tear in the force field. Slowly moving forward as Caleb grabbed at the back of his shirt, he ended up dragging the smaller male behind him as he stepped through the gap into the unnaturally dark forest. To his left the forest seemed to end in around fifty feet to show a glimpse of real strawberry fields, and to his right it only became denser at the same distance.

"I can't believe I have to say this, but that was kind of awesome," Harvey murmured, glancing over at the sky-blue building to find it completely gone as Caleb and Jay stepped in after him.

"Give it time, I'm sure they'll make you say that a lot mo-"

" **They're coming."**

Grabbing Caleb and slapping his hand over his mouth to shut him up, Harvey pulled them together and behind a tree near the wall, thankful they were both wearing dark colours that blended in. Making a quiet shushing sound as he felt Caleb going stiff against his body, he carefully peered out to watch the direction he'd seen movement in.

 _That_ , _that_ was what he was expecting from a place claiming to train demigods, three young men dressed in what was clearly Greek armour with swords drawn appearing from between the trees. The two of them wearing helmets had matching red plumes, while the one with a bow had a crude spear slung across his back, all three of them moving with care as they kept an eye on the coloured tassels Harvey now noticed hanging from some of the trees.

"There! The barrier!" one of the swordsmen exclaimed suddenly, pointing with his sword past Harvey and Caleb's tree at the still glowing hole they'd left behind them. "Something's gotten through."

"You sure? It could just be leftovers from when that cyclops got in?"

"What? Jackson's brother?" the archer cut in, shaking his head at his 'friends'. "Nah, he was found wandering around near the shoreline, followed the beach in from what I heard. This is something else."

"We need to warn Chiron," the first said slowly.

"We need to check outside, in case it's waiting for us to leave first," the second swordsman argued.

"Don't look at me, I don't know what to do," said the archer when they both turned to look at him. Both swordsmen scattering, one running further into the forest as the other moved towards the hole, the guy with the bow just let out a slow sigh and looked around. "I'll just wait here then."

The second swordsmen passing close enough to Harvey that they nearly touched, he and Caleb shuffled around the tree and watched as the boy peered out of the hole cautiously, sword and shield raised defensively. "There's a car there, and I can see two people in the store talking to some of the Mistforms."

"Could _they_ have triggered the barrier alarms?"

"And then made a hole in the barrier?" the swordsman asked sceptically. "Nah, this was a monster, mere mortals can't do this much damage to the barrier."

"Maybe they couldn't," the archer pressed, moving closer as well. "But it's dying, ain't it? Ever since Castellan poisoned the tree. S'why Chiron's got us on patrol in the first place, since the barrier's weak enough that this _can_ happen."

Both boys looked terrified that that was even a possibility, and if Harvey couldn't feel Caleb's heartbeat rabbiting against his chest, he would have felt guilty enough to reveal himself to assure them everything was fine. But as far as he was concerned, if there was the slightest possibility that they might react badly to having his 'mere mortal' of a boyfriend within the barrier, then he'd leave them to suffer in a heartbeat. Caleb was his top priority, always and forever.

" **Do not let yourself be seen."**

"Should we have gone after Rick? What if he runs straight into the monster?"

The swordsmen looked worried. "Didn't think of that," he admitted, glancing between the broken barrier and the forest. "Shit... let's go. We can bring back reinforcements if he's safe."

Pinning Caleb against him for a minute or so longer, Harvey waited until he was sure the demigods were gone before he stepped away, feeling his legs quiver for a moment before he was being dragged back toward the hole.

"Wait!" he hissed, digging his heels in at the entrance, "I can't go back out there."

"What?"

"I might not be able to get back in," Harvey explained softly, making eye contact with Caleb who looked just as afraid as he had last night. "This is my only chance. I need to get into the Camp before the reinforcements show up and assume I'm this 'monster' that made a hole in their barrier."

Jay snorted in the background. "You _are_ the monster that made a hole in their barrier."

"It was your idea for me to come here, remember?" he accused, glancing over his shoulder towards the forest. "Well, now I'm here. And… and now that I'm here, something's telling me I need to do this my way."

"Harvey. Your way is to make them regret they were ever born," Caleb reminded slowly, not even twitching as Harvey raised his hand to pull his sports bag to him telekinetically. "You're not a diplomat, you're a secret weapon… and my boyfriend."

"I thought Crichton and Tor got married in Waterdeep before we all descended into the Underdark?" he questioned, earning an annoyed look. "This isn't D&D, I know Caleb, and I'll be careful. Now go, find Mum and Dad, tell them I'll see them soon," he instructed. Hearing the sound of clanging metal in the distance, Harvey pulled Caleb closer for a quick kiss, smiling at him before darting away as Caleb reached forward to pull him back.

"I really hate it when you do that," his boyfriend muttered, adding in an "I love you," before he was turning and jogging towards the non-existent blue house.

Watching him go for a moment, Harvey didn't hesitate to use the cup of a whistling Jay's hands to boost himself into a tree, the ghost stretching lazily as Harvey climbed a little further into the branches. Waiting for the reinforcements to arrive, he clenched his jaw as a – _son of a bitch_ – centaur led a group of teenagers towards the gap. These ones looked a lot more prepared for a fight than the earlier three did, if only because there were around a dozen of them this time, most of them a lot more heavily armoured than the first lot who were still among them.

"Spread out and search," the centaur ordered, a huge bow held in his right hand. "I want to be sure nothing came through before we seal it."

Out of all of them, the two that happened to head in Harvey's direction were a lightly-armoured girl without any weapons and a blond boy with a spear in one hand and a pillow in the other. As they passed him, something urged Harvey to keep out of sight of the girl, instinctively knowing that if anyone could see him it would be her.

The boy reached out to swat the girl on the arm, muffling a yawn into his elbow and almost stabbing himself with his spear. "Maeve. What do your elf eyes see?"

"Fuck off, Clovis," she replied, frowning as she waved her hand in the air and muttered something under her breath, a low thrumming feeling burning through Harvey's veins as she did so. "Chiron! Only demigods have passed through here," she called, "I can seal the breach."

The centaur neared them, staring at 'Maeve' for a moment before nodding. "Do it, we will keep up the search. With Luke and the others' defections, we must be sure this is no ambush."

"Can I go back to bed, though?" Clovis asked, "Chiron?"

The centaur just ignored him, turning back to join another group as Maeve turned her attention to the barrier and stretched her arms out to touch both sides of the hole. Nothing happened for a moment, and then her hands shone the same colour as the barrier, the light spreading out as both sides of the hole stretched out to seal it over. The longer she stood there concentrating, the brighter the light of the barrier got until there was no telling its glow from the rest of the wall. It still looked weak, though, something telling Harvey that this was a side effect of the 'tree being poisoned'.

Dropping her hands to her knees and gasping for air, she waved away Clovis as he reached for her. "I'm fine," she muttered, "That just took a lot out of me."

" **Follow."**

"It's still weak," Maeve called to Chiron when she eventually straightened up and headed in his direction, Harvey carefully moving around the tree trunk after her. "But it'll do for now. There's only so much the three of us can do, maybe if there were more of us it might be easier, but right now it's looking like we don't have any other options."

"Your mother?"

Maeve sagged, shaking her head. "Tim says he had a weird dream, about a Christmas he had before coming here. He kept asking his father when they could open the presents, but his dad kept saying 'Soon, he'll be here soon'. Lee thinks it might be prophetic, Tim just says he had too much from the Stoll's stash," she explained with a shrug.

"Personally, I shall hold the hope that Mr Fletcher is right," Chiron murmured.

"Tim has dreams about salsa dancing teacups, so I don't know," Maeve countered as Harvey blinked in shock.

"And did Tim not proceed to turn all of my tea salsa flavoured the very next day?" Chiron asked, tail flicking in annoyance as Maeve hid a snigger. "I'm still not convinced that this 'dream' of his was not a cover story for a prank gone wrong."

"A prank gone right, you mean Chiron," the dark-haired girl replied, before lowering her voice enough that Harvey could barely hear her. "Tim's dream? Could his father be telling him that the cure for the barrier was getting here soon? Or that maybe we've got another one of us coming here?"

Chiron seemed to pause at that, humming thoughtfully as he rubbed his beard. "We will not know until this person arrives, but I hope so."

"He's already here, dumbass," Jay called out, rolling his eyes and looking up the tree at Harvey, "Women, am I right?"

Maeve's gasp had Harvey partially ducking back behind the tree, Chiron looking around startled with his bow ready to fire. "There's someone here!" she blurted, raising her hands to catch the bronze sword that appeared in a familiar swirl of smoke, "I heard them talk."

"Maeve?"

"'He's already here'," she recited as Jay cowered and kept the tree between the two of them, "They said 'He's already here'."

Chiron's bow lowered slowly. "I would take that to mean, that the help you asked for is here. And is most likely the cause of the breach."

"No Son of Hecate would tear a hole in the barrier," Maeve argued, snorting as she brushed her hair back over her shoulder, "All we have to do is tell it to 'Open' and it would, don't you think _spirit_?"

Well… he didn't know that now did he? There hadn't been a sign anywhere telling him to tell the barrier to open for him, and he hadn't been hearing voices like Maeve had been, nor had the scroll he'd gotten contained any instructions beyond the address and calling his parents out. Besides, he didn't even know if he _was_ a son of Hecate (nor did he know what Hecate was the god of). And anyway, he'd knocked and nothing had happened. Okay, he'd punched the barrier and the ground had jolted like an earthquake, but that was close enough for him.

And _spirit_? Could she see ghosts too? That was an affirmative if the way she was circling the tree trying to catch out Jay was any indication. Shit, or not shit? He wasn't the only one, but also, he wasn't the only one.

"Misters Solace and Murry," the centaur called, "Return to Camp and bring the rest of Maeve's siblings here. Oh… and take Clovis with you please, he seems to have fallen asleep again," Chiron added, glancing over at the blond boy who was snoring where he was standing.

"There's no need, Chiron," Maeve declared with a smug smirk, straightening her back and sticking out her chest. "He's only using the Mist, I know how to control that better than anyone, that's my thing."

He had no idea what the Mist was, but Harvey strangely felt a lot like his manhood had just been called into question.

Maeve struck a pose, raising her hand into the air as he tensed up in preparation. "REVEAL YOURSELF!"

And… nothing happened, Harvey glancing down at himself to make sure he wasn't glowing or anything before looking around suspiciously.

"I said, 'REVEAL YOURSELF!'" Maeve repeated as Chiron sighed slowly.

"Perhaps you should wait for Lou Ellen to arrive?" the centaur suggested gently, "You have only been here for six months if I recall correctly."

"No," said Maeve stubbornly, "I've got this."

Well, that sounded familiar. If Caleb was here, he'd no doubt be staring at Harvey until he got the point.

"REVEAL YOURSELF!"

This time Harvey could actually _see_ the ripple that exploded from Maeve's raised hand, immediately clinging closer to the tree trunk as it reached him. "Huh… I could have sworn that worked," Maeve pouted.

"It did," Chiron praised, "Your brother may just have not been within range."

The sound of Jay face-palming was enough to make even Chiron twitch. "He's above you, idiot, in the tree."

Head snapping up, Maeve stared at the wrong tree for several seconds before switching her gaze to the exact position he was hiding, the black of his leather jacket and jeans not as useful against a brown tree trunk.

"Hello, young man," Chiron's voice greeted as the centaur stepped around the tree to take in his hiding place with a glance. "If you'd like to follow me back to the Big House, I can prepare the orientation video for you, I'm sure you have many questions."

 _ **AN/ I'm sure we all have questions, don't we? But if I spent time actually answering those questions in story, we'd have five or so chapters full of just questions alone, so I'm going to skip it like I did the 'Demigod Reveal' from the end of last chapter. Next chapter though, Harvey meets some of his blood family! Exciting! (Or is it?)**_


	5. Initiation

Harvey was never very good with impulse control.

If it wasn't for Caleb's usually calming presence at his side, then Harvey would probably have a criminal record by now for doing something stupid, like keying some gay basher's car… or bashing a gay basher. Of course, sometimes Caleb wasn't that much of a good example and would come up with the idea of keying some gay basher's car on his own, but at least then he'd also have a way to make sure neither of them got caught.

Harvey could have used some of Caleb's calming influence right about now, especially when his fight with the Fury proved he wasn't as good at real-world strategy as he liked to think he was. It was one thing to ambush his target in a shoot-em-up, it was one thing to rule an entire nation in Civ V, and it was another thing entirely to try come up with some kind of plan based on the actions of a creature he hadn't even known _existed_ five minutes prior.

And unfortunately for him, Camp Half-Blood had no Caleb to hold him back, and plenty of dickheads for him to fuck with. Like the pretty boy arsehole who'd approached him, told him he looked homeless, insulted his haircut and then molested him to check how 'worthy' he was of his attention. Harvey hadn't hesitated to punch him in the face for that, even though he'd pissed off the guy's girlfriend by doing so. Although fairly, Caleb would have done that himself too, before turning a lecture on the girlfriend for letting it happen in the first place, but at least Caleb would have considered the consequences first.

Spots dancing in his eyes as he curled his hands into fists, he barely ducked out of the way of tall blond's fists of fury, the girl whose shoulder was at the same level as his head trying her hardest to take him down. Light flashing as she opened her hand again – Apollo, right? – his arm barely coming up to catch the following punch, he tried to move away only for hands on his back to shove him forward again. A foot connecting with his thigh, coming _way_ too close to his groin to ignore, Harvey gave up and jumped into the air, slamming his forehead down on her nose with a loud _crack_ before landing his heel on her foot.

"Why you little-"

As the girl hit the ground with a startled scream, thrashing about like she'd been tasered, Clarisse stepped over her fallen form with her sparking spear inches from touching her again. "Let me guess," she began slowly, looking like she was over ten feet tall as she towered over the gathered demigods, lightning spear in hand. "Andy's hands wandered, and yours took a more direct route into his face?"

Nodding dumbly, Harvey could only watch as his aunt's hand shot out to grab 'Andy' by his collar, lifting him up into the air like he was made of paper. Right, do _not_ piss Clarisse off, obviously she ruled the warrior's cabin with an iron fist for a reason.

"Did you apologise?" she asked coolly, shaking Andy roughly when he only stuttered. "Did he apologise, nephew?"

"He cried and hid behind his girlfriend."

"How embarrassing," Clarisse tutted, smirk turning bloodthirsty as she pulled her arm back and _threw_ Andy into his fellow pretty boys, knocking them all to the ground. "Harvey. With me," she ordered, pausing only to tap the girl below her with the taser-spear once more before starting off into the trees in the direction he'd come from. "Leo seems to think you can teleport, since once moment you were there and the next you weren't," Clarisse said over her shoulder as he hurried to catch up again, "He talks a lot, doesn't he? I'd had used the window too."

"I tried to listen, and then he started talking about his girlfriend," Harvey confessed, watching as Clarisse's spear vanished in a ripple.

"So you decided to go start a fight," Clarisse finished. "It's fine, I understand, I'll make sure to put that on your headstone."

Was that how this was going to be? Because if Clarisse wanted to end up on his bad side then she was going the right way about it. And sure, until now his bad side consisted of nothing more than empty aggression and an ice-cold shoulder, but since everybody here had powers of their own he wasn't going to supress his. If his aunt wanted to be a bitch, then she'd find out what happened when she had a telekinetic demigod making her life miserable. It'd been a while since he'd had an opportunity to be aggressively creative, but he was sure he'd make do.

"So I decided to go explore," Harvey corrected coldly, fingers twitching to trip her, "They're the ones who decided to start something."

"Yes, and if I hadn't been there to save your arse," Clarisse began.

"Then I'd have bitch-slapped her through a fucking tree," he cut in, crossing his arms and stopping in place, forcing his aunt to turn to face him.

Clarisse's eyes lit up at that, the woman seemingly growing to twice his size as her hands landed on her hips. "Is that so?"

Trying his best to make himself look bigger as well, Harvey stared Clarisse down. He didn't know exactly what to say to that, but hopefully he wouldn't need to say anything, hopefully Clarisse could tell he wasn't joking. He didn't need to be the best fighter in the Camp to win, he just needed to be the most desperate to survive, the most willing to do what it took. If Andy and his girlfriend tried something, he'd lose in the short run, but he was springy enough to win on the rebound. That's what had first drawn Caleb to him.

"I'd like to see you try," Clarisse said finally, lip twitching up in a smirk. "This is your schedule," she continued, pulling a scroll from her pocket and holding it out, "It's only a temporary one, since the Camp is in siege mode. If you're not training, you're patrolling. Normally there's shit like Greek lessons, mythology lessons, tending the fields, but the Children of Ares won't be found out picking strawberries if there's a fight to be had."

And a fight it would be, while the sixteen hour day itself would merely be a pain to get used to, the rest of his schedule looked unbelievingly daunting. There was an hour of exercise with his aunts and uncles every morning, something he was sure would put him in better shape quickly or kill him for trying. After breakfast was two hours of various weapon training, ranging from swords, to spears, to archery with Chiron, followed by a brief lunch and more training. There was even ninety minutes of 'MT with Lou Ellen' every evening, something he assumed to be magic training. Somehow Harvey doubted that he'd get a lot of free time or sleep on top of that as well as keeping Caleb in the loop. He didn't want to risk losing him by not staying in near-constant contact with his partner, it was going to be hard enough being long-distance, he didn't want Caleb to feel like they belonged to different worlds and that they needed to break up because of it.

"You'll get used to it," Clarisse offered hesitantly, avoiding looking at him as she buffed her nails against her shirt. "I know it looks like a lot, and it is, but you'll get used to it."

"You're not very good at this are you?" he realised suddenly, catching the subtle flick of her eyes towards him. "Being… nice."

"I was a bully, I got a wake-up call," his aunt snapped defensively, a complete opposite from her earlier scariness or that morning's confidence. "I'm still trying to figure things out. Now fuck off, I've got a patrol to lead, and I want you going through the basics with Leo and Victor so I don't have to teach you myself."

Staring at Clarisse for a moment, he just nodded, glancing around for his uncles and coming up short. "And where _are_ Leo and Victor?" Harvey asked as his aunt vanished her spear and stretched out her back, "And what do I need to do?"

"They'll test where you're at," Clarisse said after a pause, "Bring you up to our standards so you can join our training, so the rest of us don't have to wait for you to catch up. And check the Cabin, that's where I told them to wait for you," she added, turning on her heel and striding off – in the way he vaguely remembered the Cabin being, he noticed – before glancing over her shoulder. "And the next time someone tries to beat you into the ground, kick the shit out of them, because I won't be there to do it for you."

Well, hopefully nobody would be stupid enough to try attack him again on his first day here, not after cutting up his aunt and uncles, and breaking that girl's nose. He assumed it was broken at least, judging by the blood splattered on his face, which he took a moment to wipe off on his shirt.

But still… noted.

* * *

"By the Styx, what the _hell_ happened to you?"

He'd been brushed off by his uncles and had to go find training on his own, talking some guy named Will into letting Harvey join his siblings try stab each other with spears instead.

Leo should have known that, he was the one who'd ditched him.

Ignoring his uncle as he passed by him to his half-unpacked room (what he'd chosen to call the corner of his cabin 'walled' off by a curtain on a rail), he leant his new spear up against the wall and stripped his shirt off.

"Alright," Leo snapped as he appeared in the 'doorway', "I had a flashbang grenade – don't ask where I got it – that I was saving for Friday, but tell me who beat the shit out of you and I'll test it out on them right now."

Mopping his chest off, Harvey paused and glanced over his shoulder at the older boy in confusion. "You're really taking this 'uncle' thing to the next level, aren't you?"

Leo's smirk made him shiver, turning away to dig through his bag for cologne to dab on. "I've a list of clichés to try on you. Besides, I'll let you throw the grenade," he bargained, waggling his eyebrows when Harvey turned back with a shirt before faltering, "Right after we hit up the infirmary, that looks bad."

Glancing down at the small gash on his side, the adrenaline still pumping through his system having numbed it ages ago, Harvey could only shrug. "I love this place," he blurted, making Leo pause, "I didn't want to come here at first, I had plans for the future, you know? But this place is kinda awesome. I still miss Cay, but Will let me join his spear training thing and then after he showed me how to shoot a bow properly. And I feel _really_ good right now, like 100%."

99%, actually, he lost 1% for getting stabbed.

His uncle stared at him, mouth slightly agape as he panted, grinning like a lunatic. He wouldn't have been surprised if his pupils were dilated, like those of a cat presented with a laser dot, the rush he got from fighting – even though it was only training – was only second to what he felt during nights spent with Caleb. Sure, there was still a pretty substantial distance between the thrill of a good fight and being with Caleb, but he didn't have much else in his life to be happy about.

"How good were you?" Leo asked finally, sounding excited and perhaps a little bit sceptical, but thankfully not continuing to gush on like he had earlier that day.

"I was terrible," Harvey confessed, "But it was the first time I've used anything more than a baseball bat during a game or swung a sword blindly at a Fury."

"So… you were training?" Leo questioned slowly, eyes narrowing slightly when he nodded. "You weren't… doing anything you'd regret?"

Huh? Frowning at his uncle as he grabbed the spear from where it was sliding down the wall and placed it on his dresser instead, Harvey shook his head cautiously. "I mean, getting stabbed _hurt_ , but I don't regret it? Well, obviously I regret getting stabbed, but not the whole training thing in general."

"Oh, good," Leo said unbelievingly, narrow eyes still studying him suspiciously. "And here I thought you'd done something stupid like punching out one of Aphrodite Cabin's boys," he warned.

"No, no, I definitely did that," he corrected, "But I don't regret that either."

"They're going to kill you."

"Clarisse electrocuted one of them."

Leo paused, head tilting thoughtfully. " _Nice_ ," he praised eventually.

How was he supposed to react to this? The only people he really had in his life were his parents, Caleb's mother, and Caleb himself. Having 'loving' uncles and aunts was something he wasn't used to – and that's only the paternal relatives he had at the Camp – the closest person to him was Caleb and he was _not_ treating them like he did his partner. Family wasn't something he was used to, even as loving as his parents were, they spent most of their time working than with him. How did he react to someone who so obviously cared about him purely because they shared the same blood? The only person who'd ever loved him unconditionally before without being his parents was Caleb, but from the look on Leo's face when he looked at him he could add at least one other person to that list. And sure, out of his aunts and uncles only Leo and Clarisse looked at him with something that wasn't distain, but that was still two people more than he was used to. Leo even looked like he was making an effort to bite back his usual chatter.

Jumping slightly as Leo clapped him on the shoulder, Harvey followed his uncle out into the main corridor of the cabin, the dark blond boy stopping to search through the trunk at the end of his bed before pulling something out and chucking it his way. "When Clarisse told Vic and I that you were staying with us, she said we should just treat you like just another brother come to stay. If so, I want you to have this," he offered, "Normally all new brothers or sisters get one, given from the old newest to the new newest, but the others threw a fit when I mentioned it… so keep it hush, yeah?"

Drawing the ugly blade from its sheath as Leo watched him, he slowly turned it to the light to see that it lacked the same shine as his own sword or the other weapons he'd seen since getting here. Taking a few practice swings and grimacing at the feel of the dagger, he paused and shot his uncle a pointed look.

"Yeah, I know," Leo muttered, "It's one ugly son of a bitch. And it's just normal steel, not celestial bronze, but it's tradition now really."

"To what? Pass off the worst blade in the world so you don't have to deal with it anymore?"

Leo tilted his head for a moment, looking off into the distance. "You know, that might actually be where that tradition came from."

* * *

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"Hey. You alright? Did you get in fine?"_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Got in. Watched vid worse than saw. Have 6 aunts dozen uncles. Get own room. Almost got murdered. Got stabbed. Stabbed some1 back. Starting magic class soon."_

Dropping his phone onto his chest with a yawn, scratching at his jawline as he stretched out, Harvey squinted at the book in his hands as the shifting letters made the 'science of magic' written on the pages even harder to read.

Who would have thought magic would be this hard to learn? He'd barely finished the first chapter, switching between the magic book and the Greek dictionary, before his fight or flight instinct reared its ugly head and the letters started swimming on the page. It certainly explained why spellcasters in D&D rarely had any combat training, they never had the time to practice in between translating ancient manuscripts and learning magic. When Lou Ellen had dropped off the books for him to start on, she'd admitted that she rarely had time to attend any of the training sessions, spending too much time trying to learn a single spell – which could take weeks at her level – to learn any more than the basics of sword fighting and archery. Somehow, Harvey didn't think he'd learn too much magic himself, seeing as he was dyslexic and planning on putting training first. Greek may have been weirdly easier for him to read, but that didn't mean he could do it that much better than English.

His phone vibrated softly, and he immediately dropped the book to pick it up.

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"Having fun?"_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Fuck yeah."_

He paused for a moment before typing out another message quickly.

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Miss you tho."_

The answer came almost immediately.

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"Love you"_

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"Wait. You got stabbed?!"_

Shit. He shouldn't have said anything. Desperately jabbing at the 'Deny Call' button as Caleb rang him, Harvey hurried to explain to his no-doubt furious and panicking boyfriend the rules explained to him that morning.

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Can't call me. Demigods + phone = bad. Monsters hear our voices like that. Txting fine, email fine, calling bad now I know."_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"And am fine. Got stitched up, minor cut. Accident in training with spear."_

Texting and email would no doubt be the only thing keeping him sane here. As much as he enjoyed learning how to fight, he'd grown used to having access to Caleb whenever he wanted, he was practically addicted to spending time with the other teen. He didn't doubt he'd grow to love this place, but for as long as Caleb wasn't here, he'd spend most of his time training so he could go home as soon as possible.

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"-.-"_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Am fine. Really."_

Waiting patiently to see how Caleb reacted to that, he received another _two_ suspicious faces before he could even pick his book back up.

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"What about TK? Can other people do that?"_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Is possible, magic, others can do. Learning more magic too, or will be, hard. Needs to be secret, dunno why. Feelings."_

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"You're weird."_

Smirking at that, Harvey sent back a simple _"Love u 2. Class soon. BRB"_ before shoving his phone into his bag and sliding out of bed. Taking a moment to pull on his shoes, he eased open the window again and slipped out, reaching back in to grab the 'Science of Magic' book he'd been loaned and taking it with him to the Big House where Lou Ellen waited.

Lou Ellen had thrown it at him earlier, told him to read at least the intro before his lesson that evening. She'd also told him that if he bent any of the pages or spilt anything on it, that she'd gut him alive with her mind. And he couldn't believe he would say it, but he'd rather be back in school than have to choke down the driest book since 'Twilight'. But at the same time, he really wanted to learn magic and had to tough it out, even if magic wasn't _awesome_ he got the feeling he'd need a trick or two up his sleeve to survive the next fury that came his way.

But if he had ever imagined magic lessons, Harvey certainly hadn't imagined walking into one of the rooms in the Big House to find Lou Ellen sitting in front of a hulking pile of – no, not magic books – _science_ books.

"I have a C- in science," he said in greeting, watching as Lou Ellen simply reached out to show the _'Physics for Dummies'_ book sitting on top of the pile. "I thought these were supposed to be magic lessons?"

"First lesson. Science and magic are the same thing," Lou Ellen declared, standing and pointing him towards her seat. "If you don't know the science of what you're doing, how are you going to use magic to do it?"

"I-"

"You're not," the sorceress interrupted, shaking her head. "If you want to create a fireball," Lou Ellen paused to conjure a ball of fire above her palm, "Then you need to know _how_ to start a fire, _how_ to keep it in this shape, and _how_ to make it explode upon impact and not in your face. If you want to turn a man into a pig, then you need to know how to keep him alive during the process, you need to know what you're turning him into, and you need to know how to cook him afterwards."

"So if I only care about learning fire magic?"

"Then you only need to study fire fully," Lou Ellen admitted, "But you will _not_ only learn fire magic. Even if that's all you'll use, there are other spells I will teach you. Like if Clarisse gets turned into a pig, you need to know how to turn her back. If you get stabbed, you need to know how to heal it. You need to know how to shield against hostile magic. You need to know how to counter hostile magic. And I daresay you'll want to know how to cloak your scent from monsters."

Now she had his full attention.

Accepting the small booklet from Lou Ellen, Harvey quickly scanned the list in front of him. "What do some of these mean? Most of these aren't even in English?"

"A lot of it is scientific terminology, so it's in either Greek or Latin. But right now, you don't need to know anything about these," the woman dismissed, taking the sheet and putting it to the side. "That list is just for self-study, so you know what to study in advance. Right now, we're going to focus on something I know you're interested in," she explained putting a new book in front of him, a diary bound in red leather with a handwritten _'Fire'_ scrawled across its surface. "I doubt we'll get more than a single cantrip committed to memory by the end of this lesson, but you need to start with cantrips before you can learn anything else. It's like a skill tree in a video game, you need to learn the cantrips to access the later spells. The spell to create a fireball for example, is a combination of the cantrip to create fire and the spell to control it, you need to know both of those to have any chance learning the fireball spell. Otherwise you won't understand how to cast the spell properly, and it'll take you twice as long to figure it out. Open the book and cast the spell, it won't work, but I want you to see how it works."

Following Lou Ellen's finger past him to see another smaller table set up with a single candle on it, Harvey flipped open the book and skipped straight ahead to the first spell in the book handily labelled _'Creation'_. Looking between it and an expectant Lou Ellen, he sighed and started reading the cursive writing until he found the explanation, the mention of 'molecular acceleration' making him pause. He _knew_ this! He couldn't believe he knew this! Caleb had the entire series of _Charmed_ on DVD, and Piper Halliwell's witchy powers were based on accelerating and decelerating molecules, blowing shit up or freezing time with a flick of her wrist. And in the comics, which he'd never read with Caleb (His boyfriend didn't appreciate kisses when he was reading the way he did when watching TV), Piper had learned to simply set something on fire instead of exploding it.

"I'll admit, I'm impressed," Lou Ellen murmured when he finished reading the brief explanation and set the book aside, "I was expecting you to just shout out the words, that you listened to me and read it means you might actually be teachable."

Taking a moment to concentrate like the instructions had said, Harvey focused on the candle's wick and cleared his throat.

"Incantare ignium."

Lou Ellen clapped slowly as the wick immediately burst into flames, Harvey letting out a pained huff and slumping back in his seat, he shot Lou Ellen a panicked look as exhaustion washed through him. The woman raised her eyebrow at him and raised a finger, silently telling him to wait. Staring at her in minor betrayal, he opened his mouth to comment and faltered, feeling his energy returning as quickly as it'd vanished.

"Magic isn't in a 'core'," she explained gently, "It's everywhere around us. It takes a lot of energy to reach out for it, shaping it to your will. Thankfully, magic also has a way of refreshing those who use it, replacing the spent energy with a fraction of what you used in the first place. If you cast that spell repeatedly, you'll eventually pass out from magical exhaustion, and when you wake up you'll be hungry enough to literally eat a horse."

"So… mana?" Harvey asked.

"Mana," Lou Ellen confirmed. "Give yourself some time and it'll 'regenerate', but you'll need to eat something to regain the rest of the energy, or you'll be too tired to do too much."

Turning back to the book and flipping through the pages again, picking up the pad and pen beside him, Harvey started writing down spells and page numbers he was definitely planning on learning. Lou Ellen sitting opposite him, waiting patiently for him to finish with a knowing expression on her face.

"I'd write down the requirements for each spell," she suggested innocently, "That way you know every spell you need to learn."

"Well I already know that spell," Harvey pointed out, "And these spells are all ones that involve the creation spell. I'm not planning _that_ far ahead."

Lou Ellen just laughed at him, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. "Hardly. You've cast that spell, _once_ ," she countered, leaning forward to catch his attention. "I won't consider that spell 'learnt' until you can cast it without a thought, without having to stop and centre yourself. The day you can quote the instructions to me, step by step, word for word, _then_ I'll mark that spell down as one you're capable of. Deal?"

Feeling a sense of dread taking over him, Harvey sagged down in his seat at the look in his mentor's eyes. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

"Only if you're doing it wrong," Lou Ellen denied, "But it'll take time. You're telekinetic, yes, but you weren't capable of too much when you started, were you? You need to practice, not casting that spell itself but using magic. It's like a muscle, you need to work it, or you won't be able to cast it more than a handful of times. And cantrips? They don't take any energy compared to the spells I'm currently learning, you'd _die_ if you tried."

"Now," she continued, waving her hand and putting the candle out with a hiss, "Light the candle again."

 **AN / Sorry about the wait, I had a training course that had a LOT of homework, and I didn't have time to sit down and edit my writing for posting. On the plus side, I MIGHT actually have chapter 6 up by the end of the week as well.**


	6. Lessons

Harvey was never very good with impulse control.

If it wasn't for Caleb's usually calming presence at his side, then Harvey would probably have a criminal record by now for doing something stupid, like keying some gay basher's car… or bashing a gay basher. Of course, sometimes Caleb wasn't that much of a good example and would come up with the idea of keying some gay basher's car on his own, but at least then he'd also have a way to make sure neither of them got caught.

Harvey could have used some of Caleb's calming influence right about now, especially when his fight with the Fury proved he wasn't as good at real-world strategy as he liked to think he was. It was one thing to ambush his target in a shoot-em-up, it was one thing to rule an entire nation in Civ V, and it was another thing entirely to try come up with some kind of plan based on the actions of a creature he hadn't even known _existed_ five minutes prior.

And unfortunately for him, Camp Half-Blood had no Caleb to hold him back, and plenty of dickheads for him to fuck with. Like the pretty boy arsehole who'd approached him, told him he looked homeless, insulted his haircut and then molested him to check how 'worthy' he was of his attention. Harvey hadn't hesitated to punch him in the face for that, even though he'd pissed off the guy's girlfriend by doing so. Although fairly, Caleb would have done that himself too, before turning a lecture on the girlfriend for letting it happen in the first place, but at least Caleb would have considered the consequences first.

Spots dancing in his eyes as he curled his hands into fists, he barely ducked out of the way of tall blond's fists of fury, the girl whose shoulder was at the same level as his head trying her hardest to take him down. Light flashing as she opened her hand again – Apollo, right? – his arm barely coming up to catch the following punch, he tried to move away only for hands on his back to shove him forward again. A foot connecting with his thigh, coming _way_ too close to his groin to ignore, Harvey gave up and jumped into the air, slamming his forehead down on her nose with a loud _crack_ before landing his heel on her foot.

"Why you little-"

As the girl hit the ground with a startled scream, thrashing about like she'd been tasered, Clarisse stepped over her fallen form with her sparking spear inches from touching her again. "Let me guess," she began slowly, looking like she was over ten feet tall as she towered over the gathered demigods, lightning spear in hand. "Andy's hands wandered, and yours took a more direct route into his face?"

Nodding dumbly, Harvey could only watch as his aunt's hand shot out to grab 'Andy' by his collar, lifting him up into the air like he was made of paper. Right, do _not_ piss Clarisse off, obviously she ruled the warrior's cabin with an iron fist for a reason.

"Did you apologise?" she asked coolly, shaking Andy roughly when he only stuttered. "Did he apologise, nephew?"

"He cried and hid behind his girlfriend."

"How embarrassing," Clarisse tutted, smirk turning bloodthirsty as she pulled her arm back and _threw_ Andy into his fellow pretty boys, knocking them all to the ground. "Harvey. With me," she ordered, pausing only to tap the girl below her with the taser-spear once more before starting off into the trees in the direction he'd come from. "Leo seems to think you can teleport, since once moment you were there and the next you weren't," Clarisse said over her shoulder as he hurried to catch up again, "He talks a lot, doesn't he? I'd had used the window too."

"I tried to listen, and then he started talking about his girlfriend," Harvey confessed, watching as Clarisse's spear vanished in a ripple.

"So you decided to go start a fight," Clarisse finished. "It's fine, I understand, I'll make sure to put that on your headstone."

Was that how this was going to be? Because if Clarisse wanted to end up on his bad side then she was going the right way about it. And sure, until now his bad side consisted of nothing more than empty aggression and an ice-cold shoulder, but since everybody here had powers of their own he wasn't going to supress his. If his aunt wanted to be a bitch, then she'd find out what happened when she had a telekinetic demigod making her life miserable. It'd been a while since he'd had an opportunity to be aggressively creative, but he was sure he'd make do.

"So I decided to go explore," Harvey corrected coldly, fingers twitching to trip her, "They're the ones who decided to start something."

"Yes, and if I hadn't been there to save your arse," Clarisse began.

"Then I'd have bitch-slapped her through a fucking tree," he cut in, crossing his arms and stopping in place, forcing his aunt to turn to face him.

Clarisse's eyes lit up at that, the woman seemingly growing to twice his size as her hands landed on her hips. "Is that so?"

Trying his best to make himself look bigger as well, Harvey stared Clarisse down. He didn't know exactly what to say to that, but hopefully he wouldn't need to say anything, hopefully Clarisse could tell he wasn't joking. He didn't need to be the best fighter in the Camp to win, he just needed to be the most desperate to survive, the most willing to do what it took. If Andy and his girlfriend tried something, he'd lose in the short run, but he was springy enough to win on the rebound. That's what had first drawn Caleb to him.

"I'd like to see you try," Clarisse said finally, lip twitching up in a smirk. "This is your schedule," she continued, pulling a scroll from her pocket and holding it out, "It's only a temporary one, since the Camp is in siege mode. If you're not training, you're patrolling. Normally there's shit like Greek lessons, mythology lessons, tending the fields, but the Children of Ares won't be found out picking strawberries if there's a fight to be had."

And a fight it would be, while the sixteen hour day itself would merely be a pain to get used to, the rest of his schedule looked unbelievingly daunting. There was an hour of exercise with his aunts and uncles every morning, something he was sure would put him in better shape quickly or kill him for trying. After breakfast was two hours of various weapon training, ranging from swords, to spears, to archery with Chiron, followed by a brief lunch and more training. There was even ninety minutes of 'MT with Lou Ellen' every evening, something he assumed to be magic training. Somehow Harvey doubted that he'd get a lot of free time or sleep on top of that as well as keeping Caleb in the loop. He didn't want to risk losing him by not staying in near-constant contact with his partner, it was going to be hard enough being long-distance, he didn't want Caleb to feel like they belonged to different worlds and that they needed to break up because of it.

"You'll get used to it," Clarisse offered hesitantly, avoiding looking at him as she buffed her nails against her shirt. "I know it looks like a lot, and it is, but you'll get used to it."

"You're not very good at this are you?" he realised suddenly, catching the subtle flick of her eyes towards him. "Being… nice."

"I was a bully, I got a wake-up call," his aunt snapped defensively, a complete opposite from her earlier scariness or that morning's confidence. "I'm still trying to figure things out. Now fuck off, I've got a patrol to lead, and I want you going through the basics with Leo and Victor so I don't have to teach you myself."

Staring at Clarisse for a moment, he just nodded, glancing around for his uncles and coming up short. "And where _are_ Leo and Victor?" Harvey asked as his aunt vanished her spear and stretched out her back, "And what do I need to do?"

"They'll test where you're at," Clarisse said after a pause, "Bring you up to our standards so you can join our training, so the rest of us don't have to wait for you to catch up. And check the Cabin, that's where I told them to wait for you," she added, turning on her heel and striding off – in the way he vaguely remembered the Cabin being, he noticed – before glancing over her shoulder. "And the next time someone tries to beat you into the ground, kick the shit out of them, because I won't be there to do it for you."

Well, hopefully nobody would be stupid enough to try attack him again on his first day here, not after cutting up his aunt and uncles, and breaking that girl's nose. He assumed it was broken at least, judging by the blood splattered on his face, which he took a moment to wipe off on his shirt.

But still… noted.

* * *

"By the Styx, what the _hell_ happened to you?"

He'd been brushed off by his uncles and had to go find training on his own, talking some guy named Will into letting Harvey join his siblings try stab each other with spears instead.

Leo should have known that, he was the one who'd ditched him.

Ignoring his uncle as he passed by him to his half-unpacked room (what he'd chosen to call the corner of his cabin 'walled' off by a curtain on a rail), he leant his new spear up against the wall and stripped his shirt off.

"Alright," Leo snapped as he appeared in the 'doorway', "I had a flashbang grenade – don't ask where I got it – that I was saving for Friday, but tell me who beat the shit out of you and I'll test it out on them right now."

Mopping his chest off, Harvey paused and glanced over his shoulder at the older boy in confusion. "You're really taking this 'uncle' thing to the next level, aren't you?"

Leo's smirk made him shiver, turning away to dig through his bag for cologne to dab on. "I've a list of clichés to try on you. Besides, I'll let you throw the grenade," he bargained, waggling his eyebrows when Harvey turned back with a shirt before faltering, "Right after we hit up the infirmary, that looks bad."

Glancing down at the small gash on his side, the adrenaline still pumping through his system having numbed it ages ago, Harvey could only shrug. "I love this place," he blurted, making Leo pause, "I didn't want to come here at first, I had plans for the future, you know? But this place is kinda awesome. I still miss Cay, but Will let me join his spear training thing and then after he showed me how to shoot a bow properly. And I feel _really_ good right now, like 100%."

99%, actually, he lost 1% for getting stabbed.

His uncle stared at him, mouth slightly agape as he panted, grinning like a lunatic. He wouldn't have been surprised if his pupils were dilated, like those of a cat presented with a laser dot, the rush he got from fighting – even though it was only training – was only second to what he felt during nights spent with Caleb. Sure, there was still a pretty substantial distance between the thrill of a good fight and being with Caleb, but he didn't have much else in his life to be happy about.

"How good were you?" Leo asked finally, sounding excited and perhaps a little bit sceptical, but thankfully not continuing to gush on like he had earlier that day.

"I was terrible," Harvey confessed, "But it was the first time I've used anything more than a baseball bat during a game or swung a sword blindly at a Fury."

"So… you were training?" Leo questioned slowly, eyes narrowing slightly when he nodded. "You weren't… doing anything you'd regret?"

Huh? Frowning at his uncle as he grabbed the spear from where it was sliding down the wall and placed it on his dresser instead, Harvey shook his head cautiously. "I mean, getting stabbed _hurt_ , but I don't regret it? Well, obviously I regret getting stabbed, but not the whole training thing in general."

"Oh, good," Leo said unbelievingly, narrow eyes still studying him suspiciously. "And here I thought you'd done something stupid like punching out one of Aphrodite Cabin's boys," he warned.

"No, no, I definitely did that," he corrected, "But I don't regret that either."

"They're going to kill you."

"Clarisse electrocuted one of them."

Leo paused, head tilting thoughtfully. " _Nice_ ," he praised eventually.

How was he supposed to react to this? The only people he really had in his life were his parents, Caleb's mother, and Caleb himself. Having 'loving' uncles and aunts was something he wasn't used to – and that's only the paternal relatives he had at the Camp – the closest person to him was Caleb and he was _not_ treating them like he did his partner. Family wasn't something he was used to, even as loving as his parents were, they spent most of their time working than with him. How did he react to someone who so obviously cared about him purely because they shared the same blood? The only person who'd ever loved him unconditionally before without being his parents was Caleb, but from the look on Leo's face when he looked at him he could add at least one other person to that list. And sure, out of his aunts and uncles only Leo and Clarisse looked at him with something that wasn't distain, but that was still two people more than he was used to. Leo even looked like he was making an effort to bite back his usual chatter.

Jumping slightly as Leo clapped him on the shoulder, Harvey followed his uncle out into the main corridor of the cabin, the dark blond boy stopping to search through the trunk at the end of his bed before pulling something out and chucking it his way. "When Clarisse told Vic and I that you were staying with us, she said we should just treat you like just another brother come to stay. If so, I want you to have this," he offered, "Normally all new brothers or sisters get one, given from the old newest to the new newest, but the others threw a fit when I mentioned it… so keep it hush, yeah?"

Drawing the ugly blade from its sheath as Leo watched him, he slowly turned it to the light to see that it lacked the same shine as his own sword or the other weapons he'd seen since getting here. Taking a few practice swings and grimacing at the feel of the dagger, he paused and shot his uncle a pointed look.

"Yeah, I know," Leo muttered, "It's one ugly son of a bitch. And it's just normal steel, not celestial bronze, but it's tradition now really."

"To what? Pass off the worst blade in the world so you don't have to deal with it anymore?"

Leo tilted his head for a moment, looking off into the distance. "You know, that might actually be where that tradition came from."

* * *

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"Hey. You alright? Did you get in fine?"_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Got in. Watched vid worse than saw. Have 4 aunts 7 uncles. Get own room. Almost got murdered. Got stabbed. Stabbed some1 back. Starting magic class soon."_

Dropping his phone onto his chest with a yawn, scratching at his jawline as he stretched out, Harvey squinted at the book in his hands as the shifting letters made the 'science of magic' written on the pages even harder to read.

Who would have thought magic would be this hard to learn? He'd barely finished the first chapter, switching between the magic book and the Greek dictionary, before his fight or flight instinct reared its ugly head and the letters started swimming on the page. It certainly explained why spellcasters in D&D rarely had any combat training, they never had the time to practice in between translating ancient manuscripts and learning magic. When Lou Ellen had dropped off the books for him to start on, she'd admitted that she rarely had time to attend any of the training sessions, spending too much time trying to learn a single spell – which could take weeks at her level – to learn any more than the basics of sword fighting and archery. Somehow, Harvey didn't think he'd learn too much magic himself, seeing as he was dyslexic and planning on putting training first. Greek may have been weirdly easier for him to read, but that didn't mean he could do it that much better than English.

His phone vibrated softly, and he immediately dropped the book to pick it up.

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"Having fun?"_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Fuck yeah."_

He paused for a moment before typing out another message quickly.

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Miss you tho."_

The answer came almost immediately.

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"Love you"_

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"Wait. You got stabbed?!"_

Shit. He shouldn't have said anything. Desperately jabbing at the 'Deny Call' button as Caleb rang him, Harvey hurried to explain to his no-doubt furious and panicking boyfriend the rules explained to him that morning.

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Can't call me. Demigods + phone = bad. Monsters hear our voices like that. Txting fine, email fine, calling bad now I know."_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"And am fine. Got stitched up, minor cut. Accident in training with spear."_

Texting and email would no doubt be the only thing keeping him sane here. As much as he enjoyed learning how to fight, he'd grown used to having access to Caleb whenever he wanted, he was practically addicted to spending time with the other teen. He didn't doubt he'd grow to love this place, but for as long as Caleb wasn't here, he'd spend most of his time training so he could go home as soon as possible.

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"-.-"_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Am fine. Really."_

Waiting patiently to see how Caleb reacted to that, he received another _two_ suspicious faces before he could even pick his book back up.

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"What about TK? Can other people do that?"_

 **To: Caleb 3:** _"Is possible, magic, others can do. Learning more magic too, or will be, hard. Needs to be secret, dunno why. Feelings."_

 **From: Caleb 3:** _"You're weird."_

Smirking at that, Harvey sent back a simple _"Love u 2. Class soon. BRB"_ before shoving his phone into his bag and sliding out of bed. Taking a moment to pull on his shoes, he eased open the window again and slipped out, reaching back in to grab the 'Science of Magic' book he'd been loaned and taking it with him to the Big House where Lou Ellen waited.

Lou Ellen had thrown it at him earlier, told him to read at least the intro before his lesson that evening. She'd also told him that if he bent any of the pages or spilt anything on it, that she'd gut him alive with her mind. And he couldn't believe he would say it, but he'd rather be back in school than have to choke down the driest book since 'Twilight'. But at the same time, he really wanted to learn magic and had to tough it out, even if magic wasn't _awesome_ he got the feeling he'd need a trick or two up his sleeve to survive the next fury that came his way.

But if he had ever imagined magic lessons, Harvey certainly hadn't imagined walking into one of the rooms in the Big House to find Lou Ellen sitting in front of a hulking pile of – no, not magic books – _science_ books.

"I have a C- in science," he said in greeting, watching as Lou Ellen simply reached out to show the _'Physics for Dummies'_ book sitting on top of the pile. "I thought these were supposed to be magic lessons?"

"First lesson. Science and magic are the same thing," Lou Ellen declared, standing and pointing him towards her seat. "If you don't know the science of what you're doing, how are you going to use magic to do it?"

"I-"

"You're not," the sorceress interrupted, shaking her head. "If you want to create a fireball," Lou Ellen paused to conjure a ball of fire above her palm, "Then you need to know _how_ to start a fire, _how_ to keep it in this shape, and _how_ to make it explode upon impact and not in your face. If you want to turn a man into a pig, then you need to know how to keep him alive during the process, you need to know what you're turning him into, and you need to know how to cook him afterwards."

"So if I only care about learning fire magic?"

"Then you only need to study fire fully," Lou Ellen admitted, "But you will _not_ only learn fire magic. Even if that's all you'll use, there are other spells I will teach you. Like if Clarisse gets turned into a pig, you need to know how to turn her back. If you get stabbed, you need to know how to heal it. You need to know how to shield against hostile magic. You need to know how to counter hostile magic. And I daresay you'll want to know how to cloak your scent from monsters."

Now she had his full attention.

Accepting the small booklet from Lou Ellen, Harvey quickly scanned the list in front of him. "What do some of these mean? Most of these aren't even in English?"

"A lot of it is scientific terminology, so it's in either Greek or Latin. But right now, you don't need to know anything about these," the woman dismissed, taking the sheet and putting it to the side. "That list is just for self-study, so you know what to study in advance. Right now, we're going to focus on something I know you're interested in," she explained putting a new book in front of him, a diary bound in red leather with a handwritten _'Fire'_ scrawled across its surface. "I doubt we'll get more than a single cantrip committed to memory by the end of this lesson, but you need to start with cantrips before you can learn anything else. It's like a skill tree in a video game, you need to learn the cantrips to access the later spells. The spell to create a fireball for example, is a combination of the cantrip to create fire and the spell to control it, you need to know both of those to have any chance learning the fireball spell. Otherwise you won't understand how to cast the spell properly, and it'll take you twice as long to figure it out. Open the book and cast the spell, it won't work, but I want you to see how it works."

Following Lou Ellen's finger past him to see another smaller table set up with a single candle on it, Harvey flipped open the book and skipped straight ahead to the first spell in the book handily labelled _'Creation'_. Looking between it and an expectant Lou Ellen, he sighed and started reading the cursive writing until he found the explanation, the mention of 'molecular acceleration' making him pause. He _knew_ this! He couldn't believe he knew this! Caleb had the entire series of _Charmed_ on DVD, and Piper Halliwell's witchy powers were based on accelerating and decelerating molecules, blowing shit up or freezing time with a flick of her wrist. And in the comics, which he'd never read with Caleb (His boyfriend didn't appreciate kisses when he was reading the way he did when watching TV), Piper had learned to simply set something on fire instead of exploding it.

"I'll admit, I'm impressed," Lou Ellen murmured when he finished reading the brief explanation and set the book aside, "I was expecting you to just shout out the words, that you listened to me and read it means you might actually be teachable."

Taking a moment to concentrate like the instructions had said, Harvey focused on the candle's wick and cleared his throat.

"Incantare ignium."

Lou Ellen clapped slowly as the wick immediately burst into flames, Harvey letting out a pained huff and slumping back in his seat, he shot Lou Ellen a panicked look as exhaustion washed through him. The woman raised her eyebrow at him and raised a finger, silently telling him to wait. Staring at her in minor betrayal, he opened his mouth to comment and faltered, feeling his energy returning as quickly as it'd vanished.

"Magic isn't in a 'core'," she explained gently, "It's everywhere around us. It takes a lot of energy to reach out for it, shaping it to your will. Thankfully, magic also has a way of refreshing those who use it, replacing the spent energy with a fraction of what you used in the first place. If you cast that spell repeatedly, you'll eventually pass out from magical exhaustion, and when you wake up you'll be hungry enough to literally eat a horse."

"So… mana?" Harvey asked.

"Mana," Lou Ellen confirmed. "Give yourself some time and it'll 'regenerate', but you'll need to eat something to regain the rest of the energy, or you'll be too tired to do too much."

Turning back to the book and flipping through the pages again, picking up the pad and pen beside him, Harvey started writing down spells and page numbers he was definitely planning on learning. Lou Ellen sitting opposite him, waiting patiently for him to finish with a knowing expression on her face.

"I'd write down the requirements for each spell," she suggested innocently, "That way you know every spell you need to learn."

"Well I already know that spell," Harvey pointed out, "And these spells are all ones that involve the creation spell. I'm not planning _that_ far ahead."

Lou Ellen just laughed at him, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. "Hardly. You've cast that spell, _once_ ," she countered, leaning forward to catch his attention. "I won't consider that spell 'learnt' until you can cast it without a thought, without having to stop and centre yourself. The day you can quote the instructions to me, step by step, word for word, _then_ I'll mark that spell down as one you're capable of. Deal?"

Feeling a sense of dread taking over him, Harvey sagged down in his seat at the look in his mentor's eyes. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

"Only if you're doing it wrong," Lou Ellen denied, "But it'll take time. You're telekinetic, yes, but you weren't capable of too much when you started, were you? You need to practice, not casting that spell itself but using magic. It's like a muscle, you need to work it, or you won't be able to cast it more than a handful of times. And cantrips? They don't take any energy compared to the spells I'm currently learning, you'd _die_ if you tried."

"Now," she continued, waving her hand and putting the candle out with a hiss, "Light the candle again."

 **AN / Sorry about the wait, I had a training course that had a LOT of homework, and I didn't have time to sit down and edit my writing for posting. On the plus side, I MIGHT actually have chapter 6 up by the end of the week as well.**


	7. Duel

"How long does it need to be a secret for? Because having a sorcerer on our side would be quite the coup, especially if we teach you how to swing a sword too."

Keeping an eye on their surroundings as they walked towards the dining pavilion, Harvey shrugged when he realised that Clarisse was waiting for a response. "I don't know yet, I just get the feeling that I can't let people know about it yet," he answered honestly, making his aunt grunt under her breath. "Besides, wouldn't it be better to keep it a secret right up until I'm throwing fireballs at the bad guys?"

Clarisse smirked a little at that, tilting her head and nodding. "Point," she acknowledged, "Those nerds are never going to see this coming. When can you arrange extra lessons?"

"I'm meeting her right after breakfast in the Big House," Harvey reported, making his aunt nod. "I'm not sure how much we're going to go over, she said she wants me up to a certain standard by Friday, but I only managed a chapter and a half of that book last night."

"More than I can manage," Clarisse muttered in agreement, "I've been reading some strategy books, I'd rather never touch a sword again than read another page. Now," she continued louder as they reached the dining pavilion and headed towards the buffet table in the centre, "Before you eat you have to sacrifice a little of your food, so always take some extra sausages or a spare steak, Ares naturally loves his red meat."

Feeling oddly like he was breaking his zero-religion rule, Harvey obeyed and watched as the sausages were burned up immediately in the brazier by a flash of dark flames, the bacon following suit much slower as if the fire was being forced to eat its greens before dessert. Which was weird, because who didn't like bacon?

"I'm an atheist," he whispered as they sat down at the end of a red table covered in knife marks and carvings. "My mother used to force me to go to church with her until I was fifteen and had an… accident… with the minister's son. This doesn't count as-"

"It doesn't count as religion because it's real," Clarisse interrupted, rolling her eyes. "You're not sitting in a church hoping that you're right about your beliefs and giving them money because they tell you you'll go to hell if you don't. The Greek Gods won't threaten to send you to hell just because you like boys, most of them have had boyfriends themselves after all. They won't send you to hell because you don't follow their rules. Sure, you piss one of them off and you're going to get your ass smote, but they're basically the snobbish popular girls at high school compared to the 'real God' being that psychotic kid who nobody talks to because he'll cut them if they look at him funny."

Just because he liked boys? How the fuck did she-

"Chiron says he prefers to remain in the physical world," Leo added, interrupting the panic beginning to boil up in his mind. "That 'God' is a metaphysical matter or whatever. Personally, I think that means he either doesn't know if God is real or not, or that he just get really sick of religious demigods trying to start a holy war. It happens more often that you'd think."

"Chiron usually takes _those_ demigods to Olympus to meet the gods," Clarisse finished with a smirk, "They usually come back with the fear of Zeus put in them, if they come back at all."

The two smirked as Harvey picked at his food, the amount of grease dripping from the bacon enough to make his stomach turn. Sure, he had a good metabolism, being a teenage boy and all that, but if he started here for the year his training would take he'd end up the size of a small elephant.

"Eat your breakfast," Leo ordered sternly, "You'll burn through energy too fast if you don't. It's cooked in proper olive oil, if that makes you feel better, the dryads and nymphs do the cooking and they're all vegans who like to cook things as healthily as they can."

You used oil to cook bacon? Somebody was doing it wrong here, and he was pretty sure it wasn't him.

"And yes, we make vegans cook our meat for us," Clarisse added with an even bigger smirk, "Because unlike mortals, they don't sit there whining and bitching about it. They know their diet and they know the human diet. And they cook a mean steak."

"Hell yeah," Leo mumbled around a mouthful of bacon, grinning dumbly as Harvey gagged a little.

* * *

The blood stopped pouring as the skin sealed itself shut like a zip-lock bag. Watching as Will ran a wet wipe across his shoulder to wash away the blood, Harvey slowly tested the limb and felt the ache already fading rapidly.

"Careful. It'll be tender for a couple of minutes while it finishes healing internally, just sit out a couple of rounds before you re-join us," the blond warned absently, tossing the red-soaked wipes into a small bin to the side. "There are some benefits to training with the sons of the God of Healing, eh?"

Letting the other teen jump up onto the table beside him, both of them watching the duelling demigods for a moment, Harvey cracked his neck and pretended not to notice the way Will glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Was he being flirted with? He was normally rather on point about whether Caleb was making a move or not, but he wasn't as hyperaware of everything Will did as he was his partner. He probably hadn't needed to take his shirt off for a simple gash on his shoulder, and Will probably hadn't needed to basically molest his stomach to 'hold him in place' long enough to heal said gash, especially when healing it considered mostly of singing under his breath and poking the wound. Harvey wasn't flirting back, he was making sure of it, but he couldn't really say anything without sounding like a jerk if he was wrong. Will might just be friendly, he'd given Harvey a standing invitation to join his training sessions the other day, after all.

"The pros of being able to heal don't really make up for the con of you being the reason I needed healing in the first place," he said finally, making Will snort.

"You're not used to it yet, you got the hang of gripping the sword like a natural, but you still need to build up the strength in your fingers to allow you to block with it effectively. It'll take a while, but you won't even notice it happening when it does. A successful defence is the most important part of a fight, whether its dodging or blocking, simply not getting hit will increase your odds of winning," the other boy explained slowly.

In his personal experience, cutting someone in half with a magic sword increased his odds of winning too.

"Of course," Will continued thoughtfully, frowning down at the ground. "You _are_ a legacy of Ares. You might get it in half the time it'll take someone else, depending on how much Ares 'DNA' you got from your dad."

"You're sure your brothers won't mind me tagging along for the rest of the day?" Harvey added, hoping to change the subject. "Clarisse and the others are running drills, I was rather pointedly warned of impending death if I hung around them."

"It's fine," the blond said absently, too busy staring into space to put more effort into sounding reassuring. "Normally you'd train with Ares cabin, but since they live for a fight they all automatically volunteered for barrier patrol. We're splitting their duties between Apollo, Hermes, and Athena cabins until everything's fixed again."

"WILL! Get off your ass and patch Dave up!" the tallest blond in the group shouted, waving Will over to a demigod with blood pouring out from beneath his fingers.

Harvey didn't need to have good hearing to hear the muttered "Stop flirting with the new kid and do your job," that Lee Fletcher added as his half-brother ran past. "Blair! You can take Dave's place against Jess."

Grabbing his borrowed sword and sliding off the table, he froze as he rounded Fletcher to find himself standing opposite the blond amazon he'd tussled with yesterday, the girl looking like it was her lucky day as she stroked her sword provocatively. Absently wondering if it was worth risking Clarisse's wrath by interrupting their training session, Harvey settled into a fighting stance and quickly shifted it as Fletcher gave a few muttered corrections before turning away.

And then there was a flash of light before his sword was on the ground, the back his hand bleeding and stinging as Jess stepped away smirking, her own hand still glowing slightly.

"Pick it up," she ordered, flicking her sword in the direction of his own.

Sadist.

By the sixth time he'd been disarmed by the demigoddess, the spots in his eyes felt permanent and she'd moved on from the bloody mess of his hands and had started cutting up his arms instead. And not to sound like he was whining, but he'd been under the impression that they were supposed to be teaching him here, not outright _torturing_ him – because from the look on Jess' face it was obvious that's exactly what she was doing.

Blinking back tears as his sword went flying and a gash was opened up across his face, Harvey glared darkly at the girl as her amusement only grew, snatching up his sword again and wiping the blood away from his eye. If he scarred from this, he would learn how to put a curse on someone _just_ to get revenge on this bitch.

"Jess! What the fuck?"

"It's fine," he cut in quickly, refusing to look at the pissed-off Lee Fletcher as he stormed over, "She's teaching me."

Fletcher snorted. "There's a difference between teaching and-"

"You heard him," Jess interrupted, "I'm teaching him a lesson. His kind don't belong here."

There was definitely a lesson here, he'd gone easy on her yesterday when he really should have put her in the grave. Consider that lesson learnt.

Fletcher stood there, crossing his arms as Harvey slid into his stance again, sword raised and free hand flexing pre-emptively. "It's fine," he promised, not looking away from Jess as her hand began glowing again, telekinetically sliding his knife from its sheath and hovering it behind him. "I've got this."

He didn't know who struck first, both of their hands moving at the same time as light flashed and someone – thankfully not him – screamed in pain.

"You fucking _cheat_!"

"The only unfair advantage is the one your enemy has and you don't," Harvey shot back, opening his eyes to watch Jess yanking the throwing knife from her thigh and tossing it at him, missing terribly. Caleb's private school was good for something it seemed, he'd have never heard that phrase if his boy hadn't gone there, and as often as he abused it he kind of needed it in his life.

Almost everyone in the clearing turned to face Fletcher expectantly, the eldest son of Apollo just shrugged lazily as one of them healed their sister's leg. "Jess introduced powers first, so I'll allow it. Now, try again," the head of Apollo Cabin ordered. "One disarms, the other counters. And I'm watching you, Jessica, don't push your luck."

"Can someone heal me too?" he asked quickly. "She kind of mangled me before."

"No powers, either of you," the man instructed, waving someone forward who sang under his breath softly, sealing his wounds shut without all the touching Will had used. As the cuts scattered across his hands and arms literally sealed together - which was a morbidly fascinating process to watch – he glanced over to see Fletcher latching onto Jess' arm and leaning in close, whispering furiously, his words inaudible until Harvey retook his place inside the 'arena' of bodies.

"Don't show her any mercy."

Eyes snapping towards where Jay was standing just within the arena, Harvey's eyes narrowed at the ghost who moved forward and shot Jess a dark look. "You're not a mortal, you're a demigod. Every second since you've found out the truth of what you are, you've been getting stronger," Jay continued, eyes locked with his own, "You can beat her, you just need to centre yourself. You've got this."

"This is training, not an open duel," Fletcher called as Harvey closed his eyes, breathing deeply and trying to find that calm spot inside him. "One disarms, the other counters. The first to break from that pattern, will be cleaning the bathroom floors with a toothbrush for a _month_ ," he threatened, "Go."

Jess didn't even pretend to follow Fletcher's instructions, sword dancing straight towards Harvey's throat. This wasn't fun anymore. It had been fun when he'd first joined the group, running through a series of blocks and parries in a spacious formation. It had been fun when they'd partnered off into duos to practice said blocks and parries. It'd even been kind of fun when his attempt at disarming had ended in him being stabbed. But this? This wasn't fun, this was on par with the Fury trying to kill him, the only difference was that it was a fellow demigod instead of a monster.

And that _pissed him off_.

Deflecting Jess' blade to the side with a liberal application of telekinesis, Harvey spun around her body and kicked her in the small of the back, sending her stumbling forward as he debated ending the fight before it truly begun. He didn't need to have the finger strength to block her if he just parried her sword to the side, and he didn't need training to know how to win. But was this really the time to reveal his magic? Circling around the glaring demigod, unable to help but notice that neither Fletcher nor the others were intervening, he considered his options to be getting more and more limited as every second went by.

He could summon his knife, he always felt better with his knife in hand, and he knew he'd fight better too. He could disarm her telekinetically and beat her to near-death with her own sword. He could break his promise to Lou Ellen _already_ and conjure fire to scare her off. Hell, Harvey could probably beat her if he simply fought dirty, which he normally did.

"You don't belong here," Jess growled, lowering her head and charging.

She came to a sudden stop as he raised a hand, curling his fingers into an iconic gesture. "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

There was a series of chuckles from the teens around him at the quote, the laughter cutting off immediately as Jess started scrabbling at her throat for air. Harvey really should have done this against the Fury, since it was working so well, the bitch opposite him on her hands and knees as he kept a tight telekinetic grip around her neck. Relaxing it a bit as her face went purple, he let her get some air before tightening his grip, repeating that until he saw her tapping at the ground in the universal symbol for 'I surrender'.

Nobody spoke as Jess gasped for air, Harvey just watching her with his hand ready at his side for round three. He didn't doubt there'd be one, and he didn't doubt she'd bring friends with her next time. And likewise, he didn't doubt that merely choking her out again would be enough to make her back down.

Twisting about as Jess' recovery heralded another attempt at outright murder, he dropped to one knee and punched the ground as hard as he could. It was strange, much like how he'd known that he could change his knife into a sword, he just knew that if he pushed at the ground _just right_ , he could make the ground push back.

And push back it did, a blunt spike of earth – looking suspiciously like a fist – burst out from the ground to collide with Jess' stomach. The pillar losing shape and falling back to the ground as loose dirt as the demigoddess went flying back with a scream, hitting her encircling siblings like a bowling bowl did the pins.

Hand hurting a little, because punching the ground did that, Harvey straightened up and tried to look like he'd done that on purpose. It didn't matter in the end, because as Jess struggled to her feet with an arm wrapped around her stomach, Fletcher strode over to knock her back down and pin her with his foot. Oh, _now_ he was going to interfere? He didn't care to get involved back when Harvey's head was on the line, but now that he'd shown he was capable of actually hurting his sister he put his foot down? That was cheap, and kind of a big warning not to trust these guys, more so than he'd already distrusted Jess. Was this what Clarisse had meant about needing support against other cabins? Did Ares Cabin truly have that bad of a reputation at this camp that such a precaution was actually necessary?

"Robin, Clint," Fletcher barked, staring down at Jess for a moment before stepping away from her. "Escort our dear sister down to see Chiron, I'll be along in a moment. Everyone else, find something else to do with your time, we're done here."

Yeah, yeah, they were.

Doing his best to avoid stomping away like a petulant child, Harvey caught Jay's eye before turning and leaving, the gathered demigods parting like the Red Sea before him. Returning the borrowed sword to the rack, he refused to stop as someone called his name, instead focusing his eyes on Jay's back as the ghost led the way through the forest. He wasn't going to go running to Clarisse to whine and bitch, he would warn her about what had happened, but right now he wanted to go somewhere private to whine and bitch to Jay where no one could hear him so he could preserve his reputation.

"I'm not going to lie," Jay said when Harvey finally caught up, "I've got _no_ idea what that was, aside from awesome, I mean. I've never seen anyone do that before. Was that the magic Lou Ellen has been teaching you?"

"No."

Jay shot him a curious look. "You can tell?"

"Yes."

"Oooh, one word answers, very masculine of you," Jay deadpanned, "You're so strong and mysterious, I'm practically swooning."

Ignoring the now unhelpful ghost, Harvey sped up and ended up on the beach, following the shoreline at random. Leaving Jay to trail after him, he faltered at the sight of someone else walking the shoreline too, the couple thankfully too wrapped up in each other to notice him as he turned and walked the other way instead.

"Percy Jackson; Son of Poseidon," Jay offered softly, "Perhaps the strongest demigod in over a century. It's been that long since there's been a child of the Big Three, they swore to never have kids again after the massacres their kids caused during the American Civil War."

"Good to see they keep their word," Harvey muttered.

"They're the _Big Three_ , who's going to hold them accountable?" Jay scoffed, shaking his head as Harvey passed him.

Stopping to scoop up a rock around the size of his fist, he levitated it into the air and made it orbit his hand like some kind of fucked up moon. The two of them stood there quietly for a moment, Jay managing to bite back whatever he wanted to say for a while before finally letting out a long slow exhale with his question.

"How are you feeling?"

Telekinetically hurling the stone as far across the water as he could, Harvey watched as it vanished off into the distance, something in his chest aching at the otherwise innocent question.

"I wanna go home."

"That was out of line, what she did," Jay mumbled, making Harvey grunt. "You know Clarisse is going to tear Apollo Cabin apart, right?"

"Clarisse doesn't like me, Leo might try something but he's the only one here who likes me," Harvey corrected bluntly. He'd only been here one day, so he wasn't that surprised that he only had one friend here so far, but the feeling that he'd already fucked things up with his 'role model' kinda felt like a punch to the gut. "But it's fine, I'm not going to hold back anymore."

"Clarisse is going to tear Apollo Cabin apart for thinking they could get away with hurting one of hers," the ghost repeated firmly, "It doesn't matter if she likes you or not, Ares cabin stands together."

"She'll murder me when she's finished with them."

Jay nodded. "She'll murder you when she's finished," he agreed.

* * *

"So, I heard you killed one of Lee Fletcher's sisters."

Pausing, sandwich halfway to his mouth, Harvey's eyes flicked up as Clarisse dropped down into the seat opposite him. His aunt (He really needed to get a hang of that) raised an eyebrow at him before grabbing one of his sandwiches off his plate despite the stacked pile of sandwiches right beside her.

Here comes the murder.

"I tried, they kept healing her right before the good part."

His aunt's chuckle was bloodthirsty, leading credence to the view of Ares Cabin that everyone had. "They do that," she acknowledged before fixing him with a look that matched her laugh, "Lou Ellen stopped by earlier, she had a few choice words for me regarding you. I don't like being chewed out because of you, _nephew_."

"I overheard some of the Apollo boys talking, they had a few choice words regarding me too," Harvey muttered, glancing past his aunt at the table crowded by the kids of the God of Healing. As expected, a couple of them looked up and glared when they saw him looking. Thankfully there were some of them that didn't seem bothered by their sister's beating, and some seemed to be scowling at him just out of principle. "I'm not going to get chewed out by them with fists, am I?"

"They won't risk it," Clarisse dismissed, "Lou Ellen will, though, for breaking your word."

"I ain't broken anything," he denied quickly.

His aunt looked even less pleased with him than she had before, "You promised us both you wouldn't use magic without supervision."

"Then it's a good thing I was surrounded by supervising demigods who didn't care about me getting dead," Harvey snapped, glancing around belatedly and lowering his voice. "And that it _wasn't_ magic," he added to try calm the fire almost literally burning in his aunt's eyes, "I'm more than just a legacy, remember?"

It looked like Clarisse hadn't remembered, as she blinked at him in confusion before pushing to her feet and grabbing his arm, pulling at him to make him stand. "I don't think you understand how powerful most demigods are," she explained quietly, piling enough sandwiches to feed a small army on a plate and bringing it with them as she dragged him from the pavilion. "I'm the Ares councillor because I'm the strongest one, not only because I'm the best fighter, but also because I'm the only one out of all of us to have any 'active powers'."

Active powers? Like _Charmed_ active powers?

"And having two powers is unusual?" Harvey questioned.

"Two powers?" Clarisse echoed, pulling him to a stop and frowning at him, searching his face like she was looking for something. "You can summon weapons like a son of Ares," she listed, "That makes one. Two is telekinesis, Lou Ellen says it's a little too developed to be an aspect of magic, she's starting to wonder if you're one of her lot. Three is another Hecate power, the ability to see spirits. Magic is four, more proof in Lou Ellen's book. And then _five_ is this rock thing you did earlier."

Shifting on his feet uncomfortably, a little unhappy that he was apparently _that_ powerful but simultaneously pleased that he was, Harvey looked around to ensure nobody had heard the list. "Aren't two and three both part of four?"

A shoulder shrugged, "Not according to Lou Ellen they're not," Clarisse dismissed. "Now, I don't like anybody who isn't me having that much power, but if anyone has to have it then I'll settle for it being one of mine," she confessed, "And you honestly couldn't have come at a better time, there are _hordes_ of hellhounds circling this place as we speak and I'm not going to turn down the extra sword, but-"

"Yeah, count me out," Harvey interrupted quickly, shaking his head as he felt his heartbeat quicken at the mere _word_. "I'll fight Furies for you, I'll fight giant fucking snakes and robot birds, but if there are hellhounds I'm running the other way."

Clarisse stared at him for a moment before her eyes dropped to take in his jacket, jumping back up to his face in silent question.

In equally silent answer he crossed his arms, fighting down his shudder and choosing to take on Clarisse over the hordes of hellhounds outside the fragile dying barrier. Shit… he was scaring _himself_.

"Don't like dogs?" Clarisse asked innocently.

"Don't like horse-sized shadow dogs that almost killed me," Harvey countered, "All I knew was that I was mildly psychic, I had no warning, just a giant fucking dog trying to tear off my leg."

"I don't like clowns," the taller brunette admitted, reaching out with her non-sandwich bearing hand to punch him in the shoulder. "We're all allowed an irrational fear."

Oh, he _really_ wanted to show her an 'irrational fear'. Or… well that didn't make sense, he wanted to beat her so hard she developed one? But that would be counterproductive since it wasn't an irrational fear if it was brought about through rational means. Like how he'd developed his _very_ rational fear after nearly being _murdered_.

"Harvey?"

Turning on his heel and striding away from Clarisse, once again doing his best to not look like a petulant child, he moved off in a random direction and just hoped he'd end up somewhere he recognised. He may be a man – and therefore be good with directions – but he'd only been here for a day and a half, so he was allowed to get a little lost in his attempt to get as far away from Clarisse as possible. (So long as he didn't get too close to the hellhounds, his palms felt clammy just thinking about them).

"Is it true?" he demanded as a familiar visage fell into step beside him, Jay trying to avoid making eye contact with him as the ghost gestured for him to go left, a glimpse of a red cabin in the distance making him speed up. "Am I really some kind of superpowered freak?"

"You're not a freak," Jay corrected angrily, darting forward so he could walk backwards in front of Harvey. " _Never_ call yourself that again."

" _Answer me_."

Jay looked like he wanted to be sick, his jaw clenching for a moment before he stepped to the side and his shoulders slumped in. "You're… above average," he conceded stiffly, "You inherited your father's blade, including its summoning enchantment. Being both a legacy and a demigod makes you a little more divine than most, so it's no surprise that you're magically capable, which despite what that Ellen chick claims accounts for your telekinesis and necromancy. And well… your mother isn't exactly a sea nymph, so I'm not surprised you inherited something from her. You're powerful, not super powerful, but it doesn't seem that way to people whose only active ability is the power to pick locks with their mind."

Pushing open the door to Ares Cabin and stepping in, absently checking to make sure that they were alone, Harvey kicked the door shut and turned a scowl on Jay as the ghost walked through it. Studying the man for a moment, trying to spot any signs of deceit, he finally nodded and pulled two swords to him telekinetically. He needed to unwind, seriously unwind, before he snapped, and he couldn't think of a better way to do so than to have some fun.

"You said you were going to teach me," he reminded when Jay opened his mouth, "Can you even hold a sword? Or are you just going to run me through it?"

"The latter. You might be able to touch me, but that doesn't mean you can just give me a sword to hold," Jay explained, hand on the small of Harvey's back guiding him back towards the centre of the cabin. "I can guide you through it though. But Harvey, it won't be easy," he warned, "This isn't some crappy movie where the hero picks up his brother-in-arm's sword and defeats the bad guy, that's the fastest way to end up dead by your own hand. You're not General Grievous spinning your swords around like a fucking ceiling fan. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good. Now put one of those swords back and summon your father's sword," Jay ordered before pointing at a metal heavy-duty door at the far end of the cabin. "And then go get yourself a baldric from the armoury, your father would expect you to carry _Ilingos_ at all times, and so will I."

Sending the sword back to the rack and summoning his father's one, Harvey held it up to the light and watched the light gleam off the rune-like letters carved into the hilt guard. 'Ilingos'? Was that what it said? And hadn't Clarisse called it 'Vertigo' earlier? It was a beautiful sword, now that he'd stopped to actually look at it, elegant in its simplicity and shit. The bronze (Celestial Bronze, if he remembered correctly) blade was narrow at the base, widening out near the tip before sharply narrowing again, like a triangular leaf that ended in a razor sharp point. Weight-wise it was definitely heavier than the sword he'd used during training before, heavier towards the point than the hilt, perfect for putting his strength behind every swing.

"Hey! Grab a baldric!" Jay shouted from across the room.

"I don't even know what a fucking baldric _is_!" Harvey yelled back.

"The underarm sheath thingy!" the ghost clarified, "The leather strap that goes across your chest, you hang your sword off it at your hip. Like in the movies."

Making an understanding noise deep in his throat, Harvey followed Jay into the room that was _holy shit_. "It's bigger on the inside," he blurted before pausing and rolling his eyes. "Caleb watches too much Doctor Who."

 **AN / So this chapter was a lot longer than I'd expected it to be, simply because I HAD to have that Edward Elric scene in there (It's relevant to the plot later, don't judge me), and then I saw a picture of Darth Vader as a D &D Cleric with the whole "I find your lack of faith disturbing" quote. I couldn't pick which one to choose, so I just chose both.**


	8. Armoury

The Ares Cabin armoury was just as impressive as he imagined it would be.

It was around the size of the entire Cabin on its own, some kind of TARDIS-space-magic meaning it probably only fit into the space of a water cupboard despite that. The area surrounding the metal door was filled with mannequins, each of them dressed in either full or half armour and labelled with the names of every child of Ares he'd been briefly introduced to last night at dinner. Beyond that was rows upon rows, just like a log cabin Matrix, of weapons and armour just waiting to be picked up and used.

"All the armour and weapons that Ares Cabin has collected over the years comes to rest here," Jay said simply, brushing past Harvey further into the room and scanning the aisles for something. "Right now, it's probably best to wait for permission to set up a mannequin of your own, but Clarisse won't comment if you – hey those are my old bracers – if you grab a baldric to wear. Probably. If she does, just punch her or something. Wait until you've figured out how to do that rock fist thing at will, though."

Pulling Jay's old bracers off the shelf as he passed them, following the ghost towards where a bathtub was sitting filled with leather straps, Harvey slid them onto his forearms and buckled them up, testing their weight. They were faded metal, bronze like almost everything else around here, wrapping around his arms loosely and sticking out over his elbows just enough to show that Jay had been bigger than him. He didn't doubt they'd be useful for blocking with, though, especially blocking Jess' attempts to mutilate him.

"Here we go. Take your pick," Jay instructed, "Whichever ones you want, just know I have the final say."

Shooting the ghost an amused look, Harvey started searching through the tub curiously, digging through worn leather straps and heavy metal ones he didn't even stop to consider being a possibility. "Hip or shoulder? What's better?" he asked as he held up a triple-pronged strap with the clip attached to the back part of it.

"Hip. You're not going to draw a sword longer than your arm over your shoulder," Leo's voice said from the doorway, Harvey glancing back a little guiltily to see him and some of the others (Clark, Bruce, and Griffin, if he remembered correctly) moving over to their mannequins and start removing their armour. "Keeping the scabbard on your back is good for long journeys, you don't want it bouncing around on your hip all day, but if you're expecting a fight you'd have to stop and detach it to be able to draw properly."

"A hip draw also gives you a free attack," Clark offered, drawing his own sword and continuing the movement into a slash. "Dig a little deeper, there should be some baldrics in there with clips for your knives."

"There are definitely some like that," Jay confirmed, none of the others even reacting to his voice. "Try look for one that has room for two scabbards. You'll have _Ilingos_ on the lower one, with a long dagger or short sword on the top one."

"We've just finished patrol," Leo explained as he appeared beside Harvey and helped him search, "We were planning on heading over to the pier for some sparring. You in?"

What was this? Making up for ditching him yesterday?

"Go," Jay ordered, crossing his arms as Harvey shot him a dark look. "You're the one complaining that you don't have any friends. Go and make some."

"I want to learn how to dual-wield," Harvey admitted.

Leo blinking at him before nodding, turning to shout "Hey Bruce! You and Griffin wanna teach Harves how to dual-wield?" down the room. Two thumbs up were flashed back their way, and Leo turned to grin at him, shoving his hand almost randomly into the pile to pull out what appeared to be just an ordinary belt. "Damn, that would have been pretty cool if that had worked."

"I'm not an expert, but I can brush up whatever they teach you," Jay promised, striding off down the aisle with a wave over his shoulder. "I was planning on that anyway."

"So…" Leo began awkwardly, turning back to continue searching through the baldrics. "The rumour mill around here has been going wild since you arrived…"

Of course it had, and honestly, he hadn't been doing that much to keep the grapevine quiet either. He could only imagine how crazy it was too. From Clarisse's comment about him murdering someone, to her follow-on about him being too powerful, to probably entirely fictional rumours that people made up to just be spiteful.

"No, I didn't kill Jess."

"Bummer," Leo dismissed, waving his hand lazily before frowning down at the sandal in his hand, chucking it to the side. "I mean, I'm more interested in whether or not you're… well… a bummer," he questioned, yelping and jumping back when the baldric in his hand lunged for his throat as Harvey stiffened. "You left your phone on your bed the other day when you went for Greek lessons," he explained quickly, Harvey barely holding himself back from letting the baldric kill his uncle. "Victor thought it was his."

Harvey had left his phone in his _bag_ , and it had been _locked_.

"Victor, huh?"

Leo suddenly looked a lot less sure of himself, even taking a step back as Harvey turned what he hoped was a dark look on him. "I… uh… I'll hold him down for you?"

So Victor had been going around outing him to the entire camp then? At least he'd already proven he can hold his own in a fight if anybody wanted to try anything. It would have happened sooner or later, even if he'd rather have a few more victories under his belt before that happened. Maybe Lou Ellen could teach him a few tricks to help him send a message? Or maybe he should just stick to the classics and stab a few people and go from there? See what happens.

"You're thinking about stabbing someone, aren't you?" Leo mumbled weakly, "Things never end well when Clarisse gets that look."

Right, he was going to learn a few new spells then, just to keep Leo off balance.

"It's not like it matters though, dude," the blond assured quickly, "I think almost every god or goddess has had at least _one_ same-sex partner before, and there's even a _god_ of it. I was just curious, and well we live together so I kinda have the right to know. _And I'm going to wait outside for you_ ," Leo finished quickly as the bathtub snapped in two.

Staring down at the porcelain tub in confusion, trying to focus on anything other than chasing after Leo, Harvey twitched a finger at it curiously. When it didn't snap, he tried again harder, feeling it bending slightly before snapping back into place. That was… odd… he wasn't strong enough to snap the bathtub on his own, so that would mean.

"Damn kid, that's one impressive death glare on you."

Eyes darting up to fix that very look on the man now standing opposite him, Harvey watched as the infuriatingly perfect man just grinned an equally infuriatingly perfect grin. Tall, dark, and handsome to the max, blessed with stubble that Harvey could only dream of, the man rocked back and forth on his feet before nodding down into the tub of baldrics.

"That brown one in the corner looks about your size," he suggested with a shrug, movement drawing attention to the _huge_ greatsword slung almost lazily over his shoulder.

Pretending to busy himself with checking out the worn leather strap, Harvey tried it on before conjuring _Ilingos_ , a matching scabbard appearing automatically on the baldric. Glancing up at the new man – who was focused one-hundred percent on _Ilingos_ – he slid the blade into the sheath and practiced drawing it a couple of times to test it out, watching the man watch the sword like it held the secrets to eternal life or something.

Who was this then? That God of Gays that Leo had mentioned mid-word vomit? He was definitely hot enough for that, although the slight transparency the man had to him hinted that Harvey had now met his second ghost. Something he was going to have to eventually ask someone about, Clarisse had made it sound like seeing ghosts was a Hecate thing, something he was pretty sure Jay had said he wasn't.

"Who are you then?" he asked when the ghost raised an eyebrow at him.

"You don't recognise me? I'm a little insulted."

"I've only been here two days," Harvey reminded, one of the ghost's shoulders rising in a lazy shrug.

Eyes following the man as he started to randomly move from aisle to aisle, occasionally straightening up armour or weapons that were out of place, the ghost paused and glanced over his shoulder at Harvey, looking like he'd forgotten he was there. "Robbie, Robbie Lee," he introduced finally, giving a half-bow, "I've heard a lot about you lately, your father's positively singing your praise, so I figured I might as well meet the legend before your head got too big to fit in the same room as you."

"You know my father?"

'Robbie' just looked amused. "Of course I know him. He's my baby brother, innit he?"

Another Ares ghost then? That was two in, what, four days? Where ghosts a common thing around here? Because he hadn't seen any others yet, and Chiron hadn't looked that pleased at having Jay around, although that might have just been a reaction to Jay himself.

"So, what now?" Harvey asked when Robbie just stared at him, a thoughtful look on his face like he was trying to figure something out. "Oh, I'm sorry," he muttered when Robbie raised a finger to his lips and shushed him, "I'll let you get back to staring at me all creepy-like, then."

"Appreciated," the ghost deadpanned with a smirk, narrowing his eyes slightly before nodding. "Alright then, off you go, I'm done here."

"I… what-"

Cutting off as Robbie just vanished, Harvey looked around the armoury slowly as footsteps echoed up an aisle, Clark frowning at him as the brunet joined him at the broken bathtub. Ignoring his uncle for a bit, he waited until it was obvious Robbie wasn't going to return

"We were waiting for you," the demigod said bluntly when Harvey turned to him, "Who were you talking to?"

"I see dead people," Harvey muttered, slowly returning _Ilingos_ to its new sheath and shaking his head. "So, you're gonna teach me how to dual-wield?" he asked his uncle.

"Hell no," Clark snorted, "I barely managed to learn the basics. Bruce and Griffin are better at it than I am, and we should be able to fix you up with Porter. Porter's the only one of us who actually focuses on dual-wielding," he clarified, gesturing for Harvey to follow him and shooting him a curious look. "What did you do to Leo? He came tearing out of here like hellhounds were after him."

Fighting back an instinctive flinch at the very _word_ , Harvey let his hands curl into fists and kept his telekinesis directly under his control just in case. "He said he had the right to know my sexuality because we share a cabin. And that apparently Victor's been going through my phone."

Clark faltered. "Oh… that. I mean, if it makes you feel better it's not exactly a problem around here. People have more than enough reasons to try gut you without bringing _that_ into it. And it would have come out anyway, Aphrodite Cabin can tell just by looking at someone. Hell, you get yourself a little alone time in your cabin and try strangling the hydra?" he paused to make a crude gesture over his crotch, "They just have to _look_ at you to know what you were doing, then they sit there looking all judgemental like they're not the most 'active' in the entire Camp," he exclaimed angrily.

"Don't hold back, tell me how you really feel," Harvey teased, Clark looking both embarrassed and furious.

His uncle ran a hand through short hair with a long drawn out exhale. "Sorry, but they're almost as hated as Ares Cabin is. You know their initiation ceremony? They have to make someone fall in love with them then break their heart. Five guesses why I don't like them," he added with a snort.

"Are you _still_ complaining about that?" Bruce snorted as they joined the others, "Baby. Now let's go, I wanna spar before Chiron's 'archery' lesson this arvo."

* * *

The difference between sparring with Apollo Cabin, and sparring with Ares Cabin, was akin to the size difference between a cockroach and Godzilla.

Apollo Cabin had him run through drills in some army-esque grid formation before separating into one-on-one practice, and had tried to actively murder him.

Training with his uncles in Ares cabin had been a lot more fun from the get go. Bruce and Griffin had started them off with an intense duel, both wielding two weapons – Bruce two tonfa-like sticks, and Griffin a sword and dagger – and had quite happily shown off everything they could do. One of them then served as the target while the other ran him through basic techniques, swapping back and forth as per their strengths, until he was good enough not to kill himself with his own weapon accidentally. When they'd stopped for a breather, there was no awkward conversation between them, they just watched Clark and Leo having an endless fight 'till first wet' at the end of the pier, trying to knock each other off into the water.

That's not to say he hadn't been casually interrogated by his uncles, but most of that had been just getting to know him. Shit like his favourite colour, foods, pets, rumours of telekinetic ability (which he'd happily demonstrated by knocking both Clark and Leo into the water), and that yes, he was gay, but he was also stronger than all of them so they really shouldn't get any funny ideas.

When he'd left that training with sore arms, it'd been from sheer exhaustion, not from being cut up by a stuck-up bitch.

That's when he discovered why his uncles hated the 'Archery with Chiron' block of their schedule. The centaur really couldn't go five minutes without starting up a Yoda-styled lecture on the dangers of the Dark Side of the Force. Sure, Harvey got that his uncles were hot-headed and prone to solving their issues with violence, but after one session with Chiron, _Harvey_ had wanted to solve things with violence. Also, trying to draw a bow when your arms felt like wet noodles _hurt_.

By the time his next lesson with Lou Ellen came about, he'd been beaten just shy of black and blue by Clarisse, who'd jumped at the opportunity on teaching him hand to hand (brawling, really) during their 'free training' session right before dinner. His arms and legs felt like lead after weight-lifting (also with Clarisse), and then trying to run the border of the camp with his aunts and uncles while holding said weights across his shoulders like something taken straight out of Mulan. And perhaps most importantly, he'd discovered that Jess' punishment for attempted murder was a loss of her _dessert privileges_. America would have been a very empty place had that punishment been standard across the entire country.

On the plus side, Victor's pants had 'miraculously' fallen down in the middle of the dining pavilion during dinner, so deciding to go with subtle torture over outright brutal stabbing was already working out for him.

He'd then spent the entirety of his magic lesson igniting and then extinguishing fires of different sizes, ranging from a candle to a trash can to the fireplace. Lou Ellen had everything planned out, two days to learn how to start a fire, two days to learn how to control a fire, and then Friday morning would be spent learning how to combine both those cantrips into a _very_ low-level fireball.

And that's how his week went, repeating the same lessons just at different times or in different ways.

Slowly his homesickness began to fade – although his Caleb-sickness only grew stronger – and he stopped getting left behind in the training as he built up his stamina bit by bit. Still miles behind the others, but catching up. Bruce and Griffin started letting him use bladed weapons during training as he proved he wouldn't gut himself accidentally the first time he tried something, and his 'telekinetic muscles' grew to the point where he could throw someone across a clearing with his mind instead of merely shoving them. And maybe – just maybe, he might have been imagining it – Clarisse had started to open herself up and stopped glaring at him when she thought he wouldn't notice.

(That he'd made it clear that he had no desire to be the boss of Ares Cabin despite how much power he had may have helped.)

Compared to his first two days at Camp Half-Blood, the rest of the week had seemed blessedly calm, much like high school if high school had been a camp of super-powered demigods training for a war that would never end.

Unsurprisingly, as much as he'd wished it would, it hadn't lasted.

* * *

"HARVEY! HARVEY! OVER HERE!"

Biting back a groan as he piled his plate high, Harvey gave into the inevitable and took it over to sit opposite a wildly waving Clark and Bruce. Raising a hand to keep them quiet for a moment, he threw the bacon in the central brazier with a half-hearted prayer before picking up one of the bronze cups in the centre of the table.

"Coffee, strong black, no sugar." As the cup filled from the bottom up with steaming coffee, Harvey took a long mouthful before setting the cup down, finally turning his attention on his uncles. "Alright, speak."

"This retard here," Clark began immediately, speaking over Bruce shamelessly and elbowing him in the side, "Thinks that Batman could kick Superman's arse. I know!" he agreed loudly when Harvey stared, "But he's not listening to logic _or_ reason, so I figured that at least he'll listen to _you_."

"And when Harvey tells you that Superman's a two-bit poser, will _you_ listen?" Bruce shot back, Clark throwing peas (How did he get _peas_ for _breakfast_? Clarisse had put _him_ on a high-protein breakfast) at him with an overdramatic gasp.

Looking between Bruce and Clark as the two argued, just _praying_ that one of them would burst into laughter and shout 'April Fools!', he shook his head and gathered his plate and coffee.

"Nope."

Transferring to the free seat in the table behind his, Harvey sculled down the rest of his coffee and ordered more, feeling like he was going to need it to get through the day. Clarisse had practically been bouncing that morning when she woke them all up an hour early for 'extra exercise'. Every Friday the Cabin Heads had to go and formally declare their battle map for Capture the Flag that evening, and since Clarisse refused to miss out on exercise time, she'd started everyone's exercise two hours early. His aunt had left the meeting buzzing with excitement, while Harvey was close to trembling with nerves.

His aunt had demanded fireballs from him during Capture the Flag tonight, and Harvey could barely manage _one_ in a controlled quiet environment. Lou Ellen wasn't the only one disappointed with his progress, and he was afraid Clarisse would knock him back down to _persona-non-grata_ among Ares Cabin the moment she found out.

"Hey."

Glancing up at the cheerful voice to find Percy Jackson sitting uncomfortably opposite him, his girlfriend avoiding all eye contact with everyone while the boy on the other side grinned like an idiot while making eye contact with Harvey.

As in… eye contact.

Singular, not plural.

Uno eye-o.

As in – one eye. He only had one eye.

"Uh… hi," Harvey mumbled, dropping both of his eyes back down to his plate in an effort not to stare. "Morning all."

Jackson grunted at him while Jackson's girlfriend stayed silent. Jackson's cyclops however grinned so widely that Harvey could _hear_ his cheeks spreading.

"I'm Tyson," came the introduction, "I'm Percy's brother, a Son of Poseidon."

Percy's brother?

Son of Poseidon?

Oh lord, where did Harvey start and where was Caleb when Harvey needed to be stopped.

"Son of Poseidon? I'm sure you're the apple of his eye," Harvey deadpanned, the cyclops actually _blushing_ as Jackson bent his spoon in half. "I'm Harvey, by the way," he added as his inner-Caleb reminded him to be polite, "Grandson of Ares."

Tyson practically crushed his hand when Harvey held it out instinctively, the cyclops holding on for a couple of seconds too long before realising he was supposed to let go. Leaning forward with wide… eye… Tyson missed his mouth with his fork and asked "Grandson? Do they do that here?"

"Not usually," Jackson's girlfriend piped up, breath-taking eyes flicking up from her plate to study Harvey for a moment before returning to her breakfast. "He's a special case."

"I'm a magic-user," Harvey half-fibbed, Tyson's eye going wider as both Mr and Mrs Jackson stilled. "Water magic, actually," he added, smiling and pointing between the brothers.

Harvey's poker face was immediately put to the test as Tyson shoved his cup towards him, water almost spilling out to land on his plate as the excited cyclops waited with an eager look on his face. Fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck…

Alright, he could do this. Skimming through Lou Ellen's fire spellbook had expanded on what he already knew just a tad, a lot of fire magic involved manipulating the temperature to the point of ignition, since that was a lot easier than just conjuring fire from nothing. And since heat was generated by speeding up the movement of molecules to create friction, then technically the opposite should be true as well, right? He was pretty sure Piper Halliwell once made ice, but he hadn't watched _Charmed_ in a while.

"I just learned this spell, so, bear with me," Harvey warned Tyson, who just nodded seriously as Jackson and his girlfriend exchanged a look before watching as well.

Shit… what was the Latin word for 'Freeze'? Should he even bother using words? He could use telekinesis non-verbally, so maybe he could bluff his way into getting this to work.

" **Glacio."**

What was the Harry Potter spell again? Glacius? Glacio? Glacio sounded more accurate, he could only hope that it was close enough.

"Incantare glacio."

Immediately he felt the sapping sensation that came with casting magic, feeling the tip of his finger burn ice-cold where he touched the cup, and for a moment he feared the spell hadn't worked and that he'd made a fool of himself. Then slowly the water inside froze solid, the ice spreading across the surface of the cup as Harvey muffled a sigh of relief against his hand, leaning back casually like he'd planned for most of the table to freeze along with the water.

The sound of Tyson's hands clapping made Jackson's girlfriend jump, knocking her own cup off the table as Jackson struggled to hold his brother's hands still.

"Sorry," Tyson mumbled guiltily, before his eye fell on the cup again and he forgot all about it. "That was so _cool_ ," he exhaled instead, Jackson shooting Harvey a dirty look as Tyson started banging the cup on the table to knock the ice loose.

"Oh Harvey! I see you've met Jackson's new brother!" Clarisse's voice called across the dining pavilion, Jackson doing his best to hide under the table without being too obvious about it. "He has his daddy's eyes, doesn't he?" she asked, throwing an arm around Harvey's shoulders and digging her finger into his side when she saw the frozen cup, "Well… _eye_."

"Already made that one," Harvey mumbled, not wanting to get involved, Clarisse grinning at him before turning a look on Jackson that threatened pain if he spoke up.

"Tonight should be fun, don't you think Jackson," Clarisse said thoughtfully, releasing Harvey to put her finger on her chin like she was thinking. "Harvey Blair; Legacy of Ares, versus Tyson Jackson; Cyclops. Think his first game will be as eventful as yours?"

"He's not playing," Jackson shot back immediately, glaring up at Clarisse and totally missing the look on Tyson's face. "And he's not a Jackson."

Oh wow, that was harsh.

"And I thought _I_ was supposed to be the cruel one," Clarisse deadpanned smugly, seconds before all the tables in the pavilion jolted with enough force that cups went flying.

Hands up, Harvey just glanced at his aunt who was looking around wildly, "I didn't do it."

Everything jolting and jerking again, and then again and again, Harvey leaned over to put his hand against the ground as the jolt rumbled through it again. This was familiar, he _knew_ this… it was like when he'd tried to get into the Camp, the ground had been jolting like this every time he'd touched the-

A hand latched onto the back of his shirt and Clarisse pulled him to his feet with a cry of "Something's at the barrier!" before she started dragging him towards the archery range with everyone else following behind.

Watching the blue-white wall rippling as something hit it, the ripples originating from different points in quick succession, Harvey almost had flash-backs to his own arrival. Remembering how weak the barrier had been that he could break through it with only minor telekinesis backing him up. If this was some kind of monster, the hell hounds outside or something new, then the barrier wouldn't survive long enough for them to prepare.

"It's fine," someone said behind them, "It'll hold."

Latching onto his aunt's elbow and shaking it to get her attention, he stepped forward and lowered his voice. " _I_ broke through it, it won't hold."

Like some scene in a movie, the moment the words left his mouth the barrier shone one final time before shattering like a glass window pane, hulking shapes began to walk through the hole instantly as the 'shards' fell down around them. Their right arm replaced with a giant sword from the elbow down, shining bronze shields the size of Harvey's entire body attached to their left arm, the five giant robots marched in a line down the hill towards the demigods waiting for them.

"Harvey," Clarisse whistled, spear appearing in her hands, "You should run."

 **AN / So, I thought I'd posted last week (because of the double post the week before) when I actually hadn't, so take these two chapters as an apology.**


	9. Invasion

As the grandson of the God of War, Harvey was honestly ashamed to say that when Clarisse gave the word, he ran.

On the plus side, the others hadn't waited for their Clarisse to speak before they were sprinting back towards the Camp, so it wasn't like he was the only one running.

Going sideways where most people ran straight, he vaulted one of the half-fences surrounding the dining pavilion and hunkered down, popping his head up cautiously to try judge how fast the robots were moving. What the hell was he supposed to do here? He couldn't beat one of his own uncles in a friendly spar, how could he do anything against what looked like a giant battle droid from Star Wars of all things? He didn't even have a sword on him, which Clarisse would be furious about if she found out.

As the battle droids stomped passed him, he watched as one paused to bash its shield against a small shed, waiting for a moment before continuing on to catch up with its friends. A blonde demigoddess bursting out of the rubble and limping over to jump the fence when the robot got far enough away, Harvey whistled and gestured, making the girl scoot towards him beneath the fence with a pained smile.

"Damn, I thought I was sneakier than that," Jess said in greeting, clutching at her leg and studiously avoiding eye contact. "I can't heal myself," she added as he opened his mouth to suggest just that, "We can only heal other people."

Biting back all the 'nice' comments he wanted to say, Harvey just bit his tongue and peered over the fence again. "What do we do?"

Jess stared at him for a moment before pulling a face. "I forgot you're new here," she confessed, jerking her chin past him and wincing, "I was supposed to join with the others at the barrier, we play backup to Blackstone and her lot as they repair the barrier. Your sis- aunts and uncles lead the others in fighting off the incursion, but Blackstone needs a healer on call in case they get hurt."

"Blackstone?"

"Lou Ellen," Jess clarified, chewing her lip as she looked around. "Listen, Blair, I-"

"HARVEY!"

Head snapping around at Leo's call, Harvey pushed himself up from the fence and grabbed Jess roughly, shamelessly ducking down to lift her over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Ignoring her squawk of pain, having made sure he wasn't touching the gash on her calf, he carried her over to where his uncle was waving at him from the other side of the dining pavilion near Clarisse.

"I don't have time for you," his aunt dismissed the moment she laid eyes on him, "Go find Lou Ellen and follow her orders before you get yourself killed."

Standing there dumbly for a moment as Clarisse charged off, the demigods gathered around her following, he blinked at Leo as the blond gently punched him on the shoulder. "You're not trained enough, Harves, nothing personal. She can't fight this thing _and_ babysit you at the same time. You're better off playing bodyguard to Lou Ellen while she tries repair the barrie- Oh my god, it has a flamethrower."

Staring after the nearby red-painted robot – which was now spraying fire down it's sword to ignite one of the cabins – Harvey let Leo push him to the side and run off after Clarisse. A battle droid that could throw fire was more than a little out of his league, maybe he _should_ stick to something a little more his level, like Jess who was struggling to get off his shoulders.

"We need to get to the barrier," she insisted, giving up when he just tightened his grip. "Blackstone needs us."

Wanting nothing more than to ignore Jess, Harvey glanced around for the other two droids and started off in the direction of the hole in the barrier. "Can you walk, or do you need me to carry you there?" he asked over his shoulder, hearing his burden let out a slow sigh.

"I'd appreciate the help, just until we can get to the barrier," Jess admitted, squirming a bit. "Can I use your shoulder? Instead of this?"

"BLAIR! COME ON!"

Moving automatically to follow the person screaming his surname, recognising him absently as Tim; Lou Ellen's little brother and third and final child of Hecate in the Camp, Harvey pretended he hadn't heard Jess' request as he caught up with the fifteen-year-old demigod.

"Lou Ellen and Maeve need to repair the barrier," Tim explained as they ran for the breach in the barrier, a couple of other demigods joining them. "We need to keep them safe until they're done, or more shit will come in while we're all distracted."

Fighting off the urge to tell Tim to watch his language, Harvey tightened his grip on Jess as they started up the hill towards where Lou Ellen was already standing, Maeve and Clovis darting out from behind the rubble of a cabin to join them as Jess bounced on his shoulders.

Oh god, he couldn't believe he was actually doing this. Never before had he ever had the time to stop and think about things, and never before had he prepared to march into the equivalent of war. The Fury had been a matter of stand or die, but this was an actual battle that he was willingly charging into. He'd heard more than enough about the war since his arrival here, but only now, as he watched Lou Ellen incinerate an entire flock of familiar robotic birds, did it sink in that this was _real_.

"I hope you brought more than a spear between you all," Lou Ellen said in greeting as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, turning to the breach. "You're going to need it."

One look at the thankfully _smaller_ robotic men making their way towards the breach, and Harvey set down Jess and patted himself down for other weapons, finding only the throwing knives he no longer had to think about putting on in the morning. He hadn't bothered bringing _Ilingos_ with him that morning, since he could just summon the sword from wherever it was, but he really wished that he'd listened to Jay and started carrying the backup kopis that Griffin and Bruce were training him to use with Vertigo. Armour would have been nice too, now that he thought about it, even if he hadn't been fitted for some yet that extra layer of protection would _not_ have been turned away.

Tossing a knife the pale Jess' way, he concentrated and caught _Ilingos_ as she appeared in a swirl of smoke, glancing over his shoulder towards where he estimated Ares Cabin was. He _really_ wished he'd brought his kopis, the machete-like sword was nearly a foot shorter than the traditional xiphos demigods used and was perfectly balanced to fight with opposite _Ilingos_ , and he'd spent a lot of time practicing that style. Drawing a throwing knife instead, the blade barely a finger's length and way too short to fight with, he flipped it in his off hand as Lou Ellen cleared her throat loudly.

"We have to start the spell," the sorceress declared with a sharp look Maeve's way, "Keep them off our backs, or we'll have to start again."

As Lou Ellen and Maeve joined hands, beginning to chant in a blend of Ancient Greek and Latin of which only one in ten words filtered through Harvey's internal translator, the rest of them moved past to stand in the hole in the barrier. They were either going to all die horribly, or the girls were going to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

From the jaws of the red-eyed hellhounds appearing from the trees…

Part of his brain, the part not obsessing over the hellhound he was engaging in a staring contest, could hear someone talking beside him, but his heartbeat was too loud for him to make out anything they were saying. His leg was already aching, the scars on his knee burning like they were freshly made, and… and… At least Caleb wasn't here, the first time he'd been glad of that since arriving, he wouldn't be able to concentrate if he had to worry about his partner dying too. How would Caleb find out? Would he just know? Or would someone from the Camp go to Harvey's house to tell them in person? Would they even go to the same place when Caleb died? Or would he go to Heaven while Harvey when to the Underworld?

Oh god, there were so many eyes.

And then there weren't, a strange sob bursting from his chest as he suddenly remembered how to breathe, watching the hellhounds turn tail and run back into the forest.

Staggering back as he realised the robotic men still remained, having formed a sort of semi-circle around the breach as they waited for some kind of signal, Harvey flinched as someone grabbed his arm.

"Shit… dude? You alright?"

His mouth opened but no noise came out, the words lost somewhere in translation.

"What the shit just happened?" Tim's voice asked somewhere behind him, "Why did they run?"

"Blair did it," the first voice blurted, belonging to someone Harvey didn't recognise. "They took one look at him and then gapped it, must have gotten a good whiff of his armpits. Dogs have good a sense of smell, right? Because if I can smell it from here, then obviously they had it worse."

"Fuck you, I smell _fantastic_ ," Harvey argued, feeling himself snap out of it as he bent down to pick up the weapons he hadn't even known he'd dropped, shoving them and his trembling hands into the pockets of his jacket.

The dark boy just smirked, clapping him on the shoulder before giving him a cautious once-over, the question in his eyes clear. "Just run next time, mate," he whispered, "Nobody will blame you. So long as you don't blame me for running from any spiders we see."

Harvey would blame himself, and he was sure that Clarisse and the rest of his 'family' wouldn't hesitate to do the same.

"What are they waiting for?" he asked instead, nobody cruel enough to call him on the cracking of his voice. "And what _are_ they?"

"Automatons. Dad made them," a red-head replied, looking down at her sword and shield sceptically. "We're in trouble," she added quietly, "We're not armed well enough. They don't have weak spots."

He wasn't so sure about that. These 'automatons' were just smaller version of the giant ones that had broken through the barrier in the first place, only they were lacking shields and carried their swords instead of having them built into their body. And just like the big ones, they looked very skeletal beneath their armour, which was noticeably missing around their joints

Saying so, Harvey was treated to a dead stare by the red-head. "If you wanna ask them to stand still long enough to try, then go ahead, I'll make sure to put 'Thought he could cut through solid celestial bronze with a sword' on your tombstone."

Sniffing as he turned back to the automatons, he watched as they just stood there lifelessly. "You're the expert, what are they waiting for?"

Her simple reply of "Orders," really shouldn't have sounded as creepy as it did.

It took maybe five minutes before the automatons finally acted, straightening up as one and raising their swords over their heads, moving like well-oiled machines (obviously) towards the slowly shrinking hole in the barrier.

Bracing himself in their own line as the robots got closer, Harvey looked both ways at the others for some kind of hint of what to do, his sword apparently not good enough and the only option he actually had. Good god (Good gods?), he was actually about to do this, fight in a war for mostly complete strangers – one of whom had tried to kill him earlier that week – when he could be at home curled up with Caleb. Hell, if Caleb asked him to, he'd leave to go to do that instead of fight. Even if he'd feel guilty as hell for doing so, for like a day or so, until Caleb managed to make him forget.

To his left, the red-haired demigoddess stepped forward and brought her shield around like a weapon to smash an automaton with. To his right, the dark skinned and haired spider-hating demigod dropped forward into a leaning stance as he thrust his spear forward. And directly where he was, he threw the knife in his hand and watched as it bounced off the metal tube that made up the automaton's throat like a bouncy ball off well… anything really…

Telekinetically blocking the automaton's swing for his head, Harvey engaged in one of the worst fights of his entire life, and he was including the various video games he'd played after skipping the tutorial. His own flailing style completely outdone by the robot's precise movements, he did his best to not get killed by the automaton while simultaneously keeping an eye on the other half-dozen or so of them currently trying to fight past their ranks to Lou Ellen. There may have been more of them than the droids, but they were also _so_ much squishier and fragile, and ultimately less efficient – even if they were successfully grouping up on most of the automatons.

Flinching as his sword shrieked along the blade of the droid's, cross-guard slamming into each other, Harvey could only watch in growing dread as the automaton merely twisted its wrist and the small hook on its cross-guard snapped around _Ilingos_ to lock it in place. Only holding onto the sword with one hand unlike Harvey's two, the automaton swung at his head, hard and fast enough he could hear its fist whistling through the air as he ducked.

Straining for a moment to break the sword lock, Harvey pulled one hand back and thrust it forward as he lost the contest of strength, the sword driving towards his head suddenly falling limp as the automaton went flying into the droid getting ganged up on by the red-head and Tim.

He couldn't believe he'd forgotten he was telekinetic…

Dislodging the robot's sword from his own as the two automatons struggled to stand, he darted forward to pass it to the sword-less red-haired demigoddess, watching as she jumped into the air and used her momentum to cut through one's neck before turning to lope off the second's arm and then its own head.

"They're weak against their own weapons," she declared with a smug nod, "I couldn't be sure of their model. Glaring weakness in this batch though."

As she merely hefted the large sword again and charged another automaton with a war cry, Harvey and Tim exchanged a look before the younger demigod smirked and nudged the spare sword with his foot. "I'll spread the word, I'm not much of a fighter myself."

Nodding to the thin air as Tim shimmered and vanished, Harvey scooped up the uncomfortably heavy sword and rushed the closest automaton, running it through as the demigod fighting it disarmed it with a flourish. "Use their own swords," he instructed, turning around to attack another automaton, already feeling the strain in his arms from swinging the sword maybe three times heavier than _Ilingos_. The fencing demigod beheading the automaton they were fighting, he looked around for the next target and found only two more. One was being torn apart by his red-haired 'friend' and his spider-hating 'friend', while the second was moving at a rapid march towards Lou Ellen who was still repairing the barrier with her back turned.

 _Shit_.

Too far away to stop it in person, Harvey's hand snapped out in the direction of _Ilingos_ before whipping in the direction of the automaton, his fallen sword launching itself off the ground like a rocket to embed itself in the automaton's skull.

"I take it back, you _can_ cut through solid celestial bronze with a sword," came the red-head's correction from behind him as the robot faltered before falling face forward to hit the ground limply.

"You know," Tim's voice began, the boy himself appearing out of nowhere of they all fell back to surround the girls, "I can see why Lou Ellen thinks you're our brother. Normal demigods aren't that strong normally."

"I'm not," Harvey panted as he pulled _Ilingos_ out of the automaton. "I'm just… complicated."

Looking completely disbelieving, Tim just nodded at him innocently. "I think the barrier's almost up," he said loudly as he studied the barrier, the repairs speeding up over time like an avalanche going downhill. "We can go back the others up when it's done."

A couple of minutes later Lou Ellen let out a loud groan as she dropped her arms, the barrier sealing up like the injuries the son of Apollo and Jess had healed before.

"It's done," she called, resting her weight on her thighs as she gasped for air. "I'm fine, I just need to catch my breath," Lou Ellen dismissed, pushing Tim away when he reached for her. "Go, help the others."

Moving without hesitation, Harvey started jogging down the hill towards the sound of fighting, hearing people following after him as he re-entered the Camp proper. Just because he wasn't comfortable waiting in ranks for the army to come to him, didn't mean he couldn't charge at the army himself. Probably part of his normally idiocy and impatience, as opposed to Caleb's brains and tolerance for Harvey.

Passing by one of the giant automatons – one with yellow paint highlighting it – lying in ruins in the middle of the path, Harvey followed the fighting to find a swarm of demigods tearing apart a red-coloured automaton, Clarisse standing on its shoulders roaring as she stabbed her spear down into its neck.

Well, she had that one covered.

Continuing on and following the ice coating the ground, almost slipping on it, he moved around to hurl a telekinetic throwing knife at the blue automaton he could see in the distance. Telekinesis or not, the knife barely penetrated the droid's armour as he and 'his squad' charged in, reinforcing the demigods trying to take it out. Once again, his idiocy was proven, as the blue automaton just backhanded him out of the way _on accident_ , knocking him clear off his feet and sending him flying.

Oh look, he could see his cabin from here.

Hitting the tree with enough force that he threw up a little in his mouth, Harvey landed on someone when he hit the ground, groaning out an apology as he pushed himself up slowly. Hand touching something wet, he glanced over and froze at the blood covering his fingers, eyes slowly trailing up to lock onto Griffin's still face.

Griffin was always smiling. Whether it was an actual honest smile, or his favourite 'I'm better than you and we both know it' semi-smirk. Even when he was angry, at Chiron's lectures or dickhead demigods, he still had a smile on his face – although said smile was usually cold and threatening. And somehow even in death he still had that stupid smirk on his face, despite the blood coating most of it and the broken twisted shape of his chest.

"Harvey, you need to snap out of it," Griffin ordered, hand shaking his shoulder oddly, feeling the pressure but not the movement. "Harvey! Wake up! This isn't the time!"

Eyes flicking up to the transparent demigod crouching opposite him, he clenched his jaw as bile rose up at the back of his throat, looking between the body and the soul no longer inhabiting it.

He was _dead_.

 _Griffin_ was _dead_.

Death wasn't a thing that happened to him, or around him. It was something he'd only heard of from other people, or seen in the movies. And as many near-death scares that he'd had, it wasn't the same as falling onto his _uncle's corpse_. Not even when he'd first come to Camp Half-Blood and gotten involved in their war had he considered that death might follow, not with two dozen or so people capable of bringing someone back from the brink of it with a little ditty sung in Ancient Greek.

"Hey!" Griffin shouted, waving his hands in front of Harvey's face. "Move! Now! If you don't, you'll end up like _them_!"

Head turning to follow the ghost's finger, he watched as the red-haired sword-and-board demigoddess was hit with a stream of ice, getting pulled out of the way by another demigod who took the brunt of it in the back. They were getting their arses kicked, unlike what had happened to the yellow and red automatons, the blue one was somehow fending them off easily.

"We were a distraction team," Griffin explained, "We weren't actually supposed to engage it until Clarisse's team finished off the red one. Call a retreat, actually don't, just run," he insisted as Jess was bashed into the side of a cabin by the blue automaton's shield, "If you don't, you'll die. Harvey! You're more important than them, run, and don't look back!"

Completely disregarding his ghost uncle's instructions as the automaton braced itself over Jess' body, raising its shield – blue and misting as the cryo-factor kicked in – above her like it was going to smash her into a pulp, Harvey charged out from the base of the tree at the droid's back.

"Incantare ignium."

Griffin's shouts filling his ears, Harvey launched himself at the automaton's arm as _Ilingos_ burst into flames, the heat almost burning at his hands as he put enough telekinetic force behind the blade to tear it from his hands on the downswing. Sword biting into the ground as he landed, stumbling slightly as the sparking shield-arm almost squashed him, a wordless yell made him spin around and raise a hand pre-emptively.

Catching the automaton's sword-arm with his mind, the jagged tip less than a ruler's length away from his face, Harvey fought to push back the automaton towering over him, reaching behind him for _Ilingos_ and pulling it from the ground. A muttered incantation and telekinetic swing later, the robot's other arm was lying in the dirt with the first.

As the automaton's head swivelled between its two missing limbs, he fell back a couple of steps and waited to see what would happen next. Were these robots even capable of independent thought? Would it think it was going to lose and run? Or would it fight him till its death with determination only a machine was capable of?

"Just KILL it already!" Jess growled weakly, breath coming in short pained bursts.

Decapitating the automaton without a second thought, Harvey just reached down to start dragging Jess over to where he could see the others gathering, leaving her to the tender care of Will and the other children of Apollo as he returned to the automaton's body.

Dropping his sword as he climbed onto the droid's chest, he concentrated and conjured just his knife. It'd only been a week since he'd started using _Ilingos_ over this, not even long enough to break the habit of putting the ring on every morning, whether he remembered it was there or not. But as he drove the knife into the droid's shoulder joint, eying where the plates were welded to the droid's actual body, Harvey felt like it'd never left his hand as he telekinetically hacked off the armour. He was sure it could be used for something, maybe some kind of armour or fortification, and if it couldn't he wanted some kind of trophy from it.

The idea of bringing home a shipping container full of war trophies to present to Caleb was positively caveman, which was probably why it filled him with warmth.

"I have to say, I'm impressed you took it out on your own."

Clenching his jaw when he looked back to see Victor standing there, Harvey turned back and tore the rest of the chestplate off with a grunt. "Why? You've seen me fight."

"I've seen you _lose_ ," Victor argued, raising his eyebrow as he spun _Ilingos_ in his hands, Harvey's eyes narrowing as they tracked it. "You haven't won yet."

"Give me my sword, Victor," he ordered, dropping off the automaton's body and holding his hand out expectantly.

His uncle blinked down at _Ilingos_ like he hadn't even noticed he was holding it, lips curling up into a smirk before he shook his head. "No point," he denied, "He said I was allowed to kill you, I figure I might as well do it with the enchanted sword your Dad gave you."

Harvey had run before, much to his eternal embarrassment, when the automatons first broke through the barrier. He was proud to say that this time he didn't turn tail, but before Victor had finished speaking he'd lunged forward to drive his forehead into his uncle's nose. Fingers curling, Harvey jumped back as _Ilingos_ leapt from Victor's hand to his own, falling into a lazy stance with it raised defensively.

" _Mine_."

And Caleb always said he preferred to resolve conflicts with his fists instead of his head.

Victor pulling what looked like a xiphos on steroids from his hip, Harvey glanced over at the other demigods on the other side of the small clearing, all of them looking too beaten from his botched attempt at helping to back him up.

"Words can't express how long I've been waiting for this moment," Victor monologued slowly.

"Five days," Harvey interrupted bluntly, "I've been here for five days."

"Sounds about right," his uncle agreed, "Five days since you showed up demanding to be treated like one of us. Five days since you started humiliating Ares cabin by acting like a total _pansy_. Five days since you started turning the others away from the cause."

Almost falling to Victor's sudden barrage of attacks, Harvey didn't hesitate to use telekinesis to block the attacks he couldn't, unable to find the chance to retaliate with his uncle's speed. Slowly – okay, not slowly, way too fast for his ego – being forced back across the clearing towards the other cabin as Victor just whaled away at him, he fought to stand long enough for someone to join him, occasionally trying to throw Victor into a tree telekinetically but unable to redirect his focus long enough.

A foot sinking into his stomach, winding him and slamming him into the cabin, Harvey lashed out mentally and sent Victor flying in return.

Forcing himself to his feet and slumping against the cabin wall, he glanced backwards and froze at the sight of a familiar scabbard lying on an equally familiar bed. Sliding open the window and gesturing at his currently unnamed kopis to slide it from its sheath, Harvey pushed off the wall and closed his eyes to try centre himself, fighting down the anger burning in his chest and imagining everything was slowing down.

Stepping forward to meet Victor's charge as he telekinetically pulled the shorter blade from his bed, he parried the first swing and interrupted the second with one of his own, his kopis cutting open Victor's face on the across slash and being dodged on the return.

Not giving Victor the chance to recover, Harvey moved in as he spun his swords in Griffin's favourite style, forcing his uncle back faster than he'd been forced back himself. 'Kind of like Aikido but not', in that he switched between normal grip and reverse grip to use Victor's momentum against him, without actively attacking. He'd gotten the hang of the defensive style quickly, but without centring himself like he had against the Fury (and like he did when things got too exciting with Caleb) he knew he wouldn't be able to do it as easily as he was now, too uncertain and slow when he wasn't in the zone.

" _VIC - TOR_!"

Both of them freezing as Clarisse's enraged roar echoed through the forest, Harvey used both swords to deflect one final strike and kicked his uncle straight in the groin, sending him reeling as steel-capped boots met steel-cupped nuts.

"You and me? We ain't done," Victor threatened with a glare, trying to look intimidating despite the arse-kicking he'd just received, sliding his sword back into its scabbard.

Raising his hand, pointing _Ilingos_ straight at Victor as the other demigod turned and ran away, Harvey took a deep breath and braced himself for the backlash.

"Incantare vi ignis!"

The ball of fire that streaked down his sword engulfed Victor entirely, the equal and opposite reaction that knocked Harvey on his arse the only reason the resulting point-blank explosion didn't wipe him out as well. Ears ringing and eyes watering as he covered his head with his arms and prayed, he waited for the heat burning at his skin to fade before cautiously taking a peek, the crater in the middle of the clearing outside his cabin all that remained of his treacherous uncle.

 **AN / Do you have any idea how HARD it was to write this chapter? I've been in a noticeable lack of wars, I'm sure, and characters in books always tend to gloss over the "Oh my god I'm going to die" aspect and just straight into the war part of things.**


	10. Fallout

"For whatever it's worth, he was talking out of his arse."

Pretending not to hear the person speaking in his ear, he just sat outside Chiron's office and pretended not to hear the shouting going on inside, eyes closed as he focused on the smell of Caleb's shampoo to focus himself.

"I mean, he wasn't wrong that you showed up and demanded to be treated like one of us," the ghost admitted hesitantly, "But it was less that you demanded and more that you expected it. You didn't throw any tantrums and cry about equal treatment, you just stood up for yourself. And you don't humiliate us by acting like a pansy, most of us don't even care that you _are_ one, but we don't care if you act like a son of Aphrodite or anything."

"I _don't_ act like a pansy!" Harvey spat, turning a glare on Griffin who just raised his hands defensively.

"That's lovely, who are you again?" a man asked from the doorway, pulling both of their attention to the god standing there as he scratched his arse and slurped down a _Pepsi_. "And who are you talking to?" Dionysus added curiously, squinting at him for a moment before spotting Griffin in the chair beside him, "Oh. Which one are you again?"

"Griffin, sir."

"Good to see you, Gary," Dionysus greeted, before pulling a face and chucking his half-full can over his shoulder. "I'm lying, I don't care about any of you. Shouldn't you be… gone?" he asked with a flap of his hands.

Griffin's silence was very telling, as was his 'subtle' glance in Harvey's direction before he turned his attention to picking at his nails.

The god in the doorway grunting, losing interest in them already, Dionysus just strolled off _through_ the door to Chiron's office with a yawn, leaving them both alone in the waiting room again.

"Well… that was awkward," Griffin mumbled.

"Do you _ever_ shut up? You never talked this much when you were alive," Harvey snapped, running a hand through his hair as he leapt to his feet and started pacing.

Griffin was quiet again, this time keeping his eyes locked on the floor. "Maybe because when I was alive everybody could see me," he said softly, almost too quietly for Harvey to hear, "Maybe because I was _alive_ , and now I'm not."

Shit.

"Griffin, I'm-"

"Yeah, sorry, I get it," the demi-ghost interrupted, "You're not dealing with it well either, neither of us are. I deserve to be reacting worse than you though, don't forget that, I'm the one whose actually dead here," he reminded with an accusing point of his finger. "And it's not like I _wanted_ to be stuck here haunting you."

Pausing mid-step, Harvey turned to frown at Griffin thoughtfully. "Why _are_ you haunting me?"

"She told me to," came the immediate response, Griffin slapping his hand over his mouth and looking incredibly guilty. "I'm not allowed to tell you. She just told me I had to keep an eye on you after the last guy got exorcised."

The last guy got exorcised? Wait, Jay was _gone_?

Frown deepening as he tried to remember the last time he'd spoken to the original ghost haunting him, Harvey felt something flicker in his chest at the answer. "Wednesday. I haven't seen Jay since Wednesday, I didn't even notice he was gone, I thought he was just giving me space after I told him to fuck off."

"Jay?" Griffin questioned, leaning forward, "I know that name."

"Jay Morris. He's one of your half-brothers, from like, twenty years ago. He was the guy my mother ordered to babysit me, the one who brought me here," Harvey admitted guiltily. How could he have forgotten about Jay? Sure, he'd been busy trying to catch up and keep up, but that was no excuse. One moment he'd been there laughing about Harvey's inability to shoot a bow properly, and then the next he'd been gone for three days.

"Oh yeah!" his uncle exclaimed with a grin, "I remember now, Clarisse was going on about you having his sword! It's kind of a famous sword, really, Ares himself picks who inherits it after the previous wielder dies. That's why it keeps returning to you, because Dad connected it straight to your soul."

"I remember Clarisse saying…" trailing off slowly as he remembered her exact words, Harvey stared open mouthed at the wall opposite before glancing over at a confused-looking Griffin.

"Dude? What?"

Taking a slow deep breath, Harvey tried to stop himself from screaming and only barely managed it, instead letting out a low growl and shouting " _Jay Matthew Morris, you get your deceased arse here right now_!" The yelling in the room beyond stopped, but all Harvey did was raise his hand to stop Griffin from talking, instead turning to face the centre of the room and crossing his arms expectantly. " _JAY_!" he ordered, hoping the ghost – or his mother – was listening wherever he was " _Show yourself!_ _NOW_!"

There was another pause, long and drawn out, before the door to Chiron's office swung open as the centaur himself peered out into the room. "Mr Blair, if you wouldn't mind-"

The room darkened suddenly, cutting Chiron off as if a million clouds had just moved in front of the sun and the shadows themselves came alive and multiplied. Rising up from the floor came hundreds of little black orbs of light, reluctantly swirling around each other and merging into one, forming a confused and beat-up looking Jay. The ghost flinched away from something and then blinked, looking around the room in confusion before his eyes landed on Harvey.

"I… Harvey?"

"Mr Blair," Chiron barked sharply, stamping a hoof loudly.

"Chiron," Harvey shot back, not moving his eyes from Jay who was staring straight back. "You look like shit," he told the ghost, "Dad."

"I've had hell hounds gnawing on my insides for the past three days," Jay deadpanned, "I _feel_ like shi- _shit_ ," he exhaled, shoulders slumping as a defeated noise escaped his lips. "She told you, then?"

He stared at his _father_ for a moment, taking in the combined fear and relief on the man's face – the face that was so much like Harvey's own. He'd noticed the resemblance before, but he hadn't thought to look past the ghost's explanation of 'I'm your uncle'. "Actually, you did," he corrected when he realised the man was waiting for the answer, "My middle name, it's 'Jay'. And Clarisse told me when I first met her, that _Ilingos_ was your sword, that it went missing when you died, while you said I inherited my _father's_ sword. Why didn't you just tell me."

"Because of your mother. Her orders were very specific. I couldn't tell you, I couldn't let other people tell you, you had to figure it out all on your own," his _father_ admitted before jerking his chin at Chiron. "He knew. But he was the only person here who knew I'd had a kid in the first place, so the moment you showed up with my sword _and_ me, he knew who you were."

"I respected his request to keep you in the dark," Chiron defended quickly, passing the buck back to Jay when Harvey glanced to him.

"Which is why you _exorcised_ me."

The room darkened again, Harvey's fingers twitching for Jay's sword as he turned to face the blank-faced centaur.

"I am sworn to protect the demigods here with my life," Chiron said simply, straightening his shoulders and raising his chin. "I couldn't prove his claims, I couldn't ensure he couldn't be used against the Camp," he explained, his voice turning steeling calm as he stared Harvey down. "I care about each and every young man or woman to step foot in this Camp, I could not risk letting him stay."

" _Risk_?" Harvey demanded, straightening up as well.

"Ghosts can be controlled by anyone with even a modicum of talent in the art of necromancy," Dionysus' voice called from Chiron's office, followed by the hissing sound of a can being opened. "So he wasn't going to leave it up to someone as weak in the art as you. Grow up, Chiron has millennia's worth more experience than you. Children," the god added 'quietly' in disgust.

"Hecate," Lou Ellen declared suddenly, looking over Chiron's back at him with a smug look on her face. "Your mother is Hecate. Magic? Telekinesis? Necromancy? It's obvious. Stop shaking your head, we've figured it out so you're allowed to admit it."

"When you figure it out, I'll admit it," Jay scowled, glaring at Lou Ellen darkly as he moved over to stand by Harvey and Griffin.

"You're right, it must be that _other_ Goddess of Magic and Necromancy, the one from Ohio," the sorceress drawled, rolling her eyes at them.

"The two are not mutually exclusive, Ms Blackstone," Chiron chided, "To be a necromancer, you must have magic. But to have magic you don't have to be a child of Hecate. And you said yourself, as magically powerful as Mr Blair is, he is no sorcerer," the centaur reminded with slowly growing furrows around his eyes, "And yet, here he is summoning the spirit of a freshly exorcised demigod through the Camp's protections against such an act."

"Not a sorcerer?" Clarisse cut in, pushing her way past Chiron and Lou Ellen, only to shiver as she entered the waiting room. "You told me he was," she accused the daughter of Hecate, "That's why you were willing to train him yourself."

"I said he had the _potential_ ," the sorceress defended.

Oh gods, why did he have to be here through all this? Harvey wanted nothing more than to go hide in his cabin. Except not _his_ cabin, because that was the cabin he shared with Victor, who he'd _murdered_. Did this place have a psychologist? Because he felt like he needed one. As much as he disliked the dickhead that was his uncle, Victor had been his _uncle_.

"Harvey."

His father's ghost stood in front of him, Harvey watching as the man smiled gently, the same sad smile he'd looked upon _Ilingos_ with when he first saw it.

"Don't you _dare_ feel guilty," Jay ordered gently, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. "He attacked you, he tried to kill you, he wanted you dead. And not only you, but he helped let those automatons into the camp, Griffin and many others are dead because of him. I was in the Underworld," he continued as Harvey opened his mouth, "I had a front row seat of all the lost confused demigods appearing in our midst, I saw at least twelve I recognised. He and his, they want you all dead."

"I threw that fireball _at his back_ ," Harvey interrupted.

"And you know that knife Leo gave you? The Ares Cabin tradition one?" Jay clarified, unimpressed eyebrow raised. "He left that in Clarisse's back before he set out to find you. If you managed to escape, everyone would know you'd had the knife before it ended up in Clarisse's back, and you'd be exiled. He didn't play fair either."

Glancing over at Clarisse, who looked completely healthy and unstabbed, his eyes jumped back to Jay as the ghost shifted. "Call Caleb," the man ordered, "Put yourself on mute and just listen to him talk, text him as you do it. Just… listen to him, he can help you through this better than anyone here."

He frowned at the ghost, trying to wrap his head around his father's messed up logic. "I spent all week harassing him for outing me."

"And he tried to kill you for even existing," Jay argued, "Your point?"

"You were harassing him?" Clarisse questioned suddenly, reminding Harvey that their conversation wasn't exactly private. "The pranks, the coffee, the tripping. That was you," she realised, pointing at him as if that would make things clearer. "We thought it was the Stoll brothers, he'd kissed one of their sisters without permission, and they're petty enough to prank him like that."

"I was just going to stab him a couple of times, but Leo said I have a 'Clarisse face' so I figured why not go for something more subtle."

The sound of wood splintering snapped their attention to Chiron, the centaur guiltily pulling a hoof out from the broken floorboard. "Can we please get back to the issues at hand?" he demanded – gently as ever. "If speaking with your partner does not help, Mr Blair, my office is always open if you wish to talk," Chiron informed him with a kind nod, before turning back to the group as a whole. "But there are more pressing concerns we must attend to than Mr Blair's parentage. Chiefly among them, is that this is the second time in as many weeks that that barrier has been breached by monsters with help from the inside, naturally we must take care to prevent this from becoming a witch hunt for more of Castellan's conspirators."

Wait, was he being included in this conversation now?

"My lot could use our gifts to determine the truth," Fletcher offered as he too joined them in the waiting room. "Or we would, if Clarisse was the only Cabin Head to suffer an assassination attempt. I can't trust any of the results, they could be covering for each other for all we'd know."

No seriously, why were they having this discussion in front of him? They'd been having it behind closed doors five minutes ago, why was he suddenly trusted enough to be included?

"Well having _them_ here isn't helping camp security," Lou Ellen reminded, gesturing at Jay and Griffin who blinked in confusion. "Look at Harvey, if _he's_ a strong enough necromancer to summon them, then anyone could."

"The authority of a goddess outweighs that of any necromancer," Jay dismissed, sticking his tongue out at her when she scowled.

"Uh…" one of the Cabin Heads – Gardener or something – began hesitantly, "Am I the only one who can see him? Aren't ghosts supposed to be invisible."

Jay's expression was best described as a mixture of 'deer in the headlights' and 'Who? Me?' as he looked around at the demigods all staring at him in surprise. "If everybody wants a look, I should start charging admission."

"Ms Blackstone, I thought you were on a strict schedule in regard to Mr Blair's magical education?" Chiron queried.

"I was."

And now everybody was staring at Harvey instead, leaving him wondering if his face looked the same as Jay's. "I just yelled at him until he showed up," he confessed, "I didn't cast a spell."

"He's telling the truth," Fletcher offered hesitantly, "Both times. And we all heard him yell."

"So, definitely not the son of the Goddess of Magic and _Necromancy_ , then," Lou Ellen muttered under her breath, pretending not to notice the annoyed looks being sent her way.

"Oh, for Zeus' sake!" Dionysus exclaimed, pushing past everyone and slapping his palm down over Harvey's head, too fast for him to pull away before the Big House shattered. Everyone bar Dionysus vanished as the building crumbled every which way, some parts turning to ruin and some parts floating up into the dark sky. Around them the Camp burned, trees withered and dead with flaming fissures burning their way through the ground as screaming, oddly muted, filled the air.

"The Underworld," Dionysus' voice whispered, before everything was whole again, Harvey hitting the ground as his legs gave way. "He is chthonic," the god announced to the room, wiping his palm on his pants with a grimace, "Hence the necromancy. Now, can we return to keeping my father from smiting me? I'm not going to lose the Camp when it is under my protection, or he'll never let up," he muttered with a dark look up at the ceiling, completely ignoring the mess he'd left Harvey in. "It was one nymph," he added, shaking his head as he returned to Chiron's office, "Just the one."

"Chthonic?" Harvey rasped out, catching his breath as Jay rubbed his back soothingly. "Like… Cthulhu?"

Chiron's sigh was resigned, like he'd heard that question a million times. "Chthonic refers to the Underworld. It's a term reserved for deities and spirits that dwell within Hades' realm. Thanatos, Hecate, and even Hades himself."

"Hecate huh?" Lou Ellen asked innocently.

"By the Styx! If you try steal _my_ nephew again, I swear you'll be meeting Hecate in person!" Clarisse snarled, Lou Ellen's back hitting the wall as Harvey's aunt slammed her into it, fist raised threateningly.

"Clarisse," his aunt froze as Harvey accepted Jay's hand up, swaying slightly as a headache made itself known, "How many female 'chthonic' necromancy deities are there?"

Clarisse shoved herself away from Lou Ellen with a growl, "Until I see that blasted 'Wheel of Hecate' floating above his head, I don't want to hear one word from you, you got it?" she demanded of the sorceress, jabbing her finger into Lou Ellen's chest warningly. "I said 'Got it?'."

"Until I see that blasted 'Wheel of Hecate' floating above your head," Lou Ellen mocked, "Harvey, you're welcome to use Hecate Cabin as a place to study, we have more suitable books than the library. Even got one or two spell books you might be interested in. You may not be a sorcerer, but you can help yourself."

Reaching out telekinetically, Harvey separated his aunt and maybe-sister gently, not stopping until the fuming Clarisse was on the other side of the room. He'd thank Lou Ellen later, when Clarisse wasn't a hair's breadth from starting a fight. Considering Clarisse had lead the charge to destroy _two_ of the five giant automatons that had invaded that morning, he didn't want to see whether Lou Ellen's magic or Clarisse's electric spear was faster. He was actually fond of both of them, and Griffin was one loss too many.

Speaking of Griffin, the ghost was edging over towards him with a thoughtful look, reaching out to poke him in the side despite seeing he had Harvey's full attention. "Order me to reveal myself," Griffin said slowly, still poking.

"I don't _want_ you to reveal yourself, there are children present," Harvey denied, earning a confused look from Clarisse beside him.

"No, I mean, like you did your Pa. 'Show yourself', you said, and now everyone can see him," Griffin explained carefully, "I want to be seen too."

"I – uh, show yourself?" he tried dumbly. Now Griffin, Lou Ellen, _and_ Clarisse were looking at him like he was crazy, the others having returned to the office to discuss the real reason they were there. "I don't know what I did, I just yelled at him and he appeared," Harvey defended.

"You need to focus," Jay suggested softly, "Necromancy is a brand of magic, and magic is about focus and willpower. Focus, and _will_ him to be visible, call him like you did me."

"What? No! Necromancy is _illegal_!" Lou Ellen exclaimed, stomping her foot and stalking forward. "There are rules, laws of magic and laws of Olympus. And _both_ state that practicing necromancy is against the rules! I'll teach you any spell you want to know, Harvey, but if you want to break the laws of our world then you're on your own."

Clarisse stepped in, nudging Harvey back as she got in Lou Ellen's face with a sneer. "Isn't your mother the _goddess_ of necromancy? What? You don't want anyone else stealing your thunder?"

As the two fell back into bickering, Griffin poked him in the side again, looking so hopeful that Harvey was raising his hand before he knew it. Clapping his uncle on the shoulder, concentrating on the weird tangibility without pressure he could feel when touching the ghost, Harvey closed his eyes and found himself hitting his first roadblock.

What the fuck kind of science was necromancy?

Focusing on the spot in his chest where he imagined his magic being, Harvey willed it through his hand into Griffin and skipped the most important part of using magic. Keeping the sight of Griffin's hope locked in mind and trying to _push_ things into happening, he ignored the burn forming in his throat and tried again. He normally did things without realising he could, so why wouldn't this be the same? From summoning _Ilingos_ , to creating that fist of earth against Jess, he wouldn't know if he couldn't until he gave it a go.

"Show yourself," he ordered, as firmly as he could manage.

Opening his eyes, he watched as black lights seemed to explode from his palm to encircle Griffin, being sucked into his form before he brightened sharply like someone had been holding a dark film over his body and removed it. Then the room itself lightened, like the shadows from before had been there without him knowing, Griffin inspecting his hands and arms with a confused look. And again, Harvey felt nothing, no pull on his chest or his already low energy levels to signify that he'd used magic.

"Grif?"

Being bumped to the side as Clarisse latched onto Griffin and pulled him into a hug, both of them making an odd face as they touched, Harvey looked to Jay as the man smirked and winked at him.

"Your eyes are black," the ghost whispered, "So much for being 'weak in the art', eh?"

"I'M A GENIUS!" Dionysus' voice cried from Chiron's office, the god bursting into the room with an insane grin. "Gather everyone in the amphitheatre!" he ordered, "I know how to secure the barrier!"

"Well, you heard Mr D," Chiron said with a sigh, voice loud enough to be heard by those still in the waiting room, "Spread the word. _Not_ you," he corrected as he stepped into the doorway and looked at Harvey pointedly. "I want you sitting and waiting for me when I return. There's a computer in my office, you can use the 'H-Talk' program to contact your partner, it's encrypted so you can speak freely. We need to have a discussion that cannot be put off any longer."

Blinking at the centaur in confusion, horrifying thoughts running through his head as he struggled to think of what he'd done (aside from _murdering his uncle_ ) to earn a one-on-one conversation, Harvey jolted as Jay's hand landed on his back and pushed him forward a little.

"You're really going to waste time when you could be talking to Caleb?" his father whispered.

Not even almost breaking his ankle in the hole Chiron had stamped through the floor was enough to stop Harvey from running into the office, the centaur chuckling behind him before ordering everyone else out.

"Griffin. Out," Harvey snapped when his _second_ ghost-uncle followed him into the room.

"But your mother said I had to follow you everywhere," Griffin argued, even as he backed out of the room obediently.

"Come on, little bro," Jay instructed, throwing his arm over Griffin's shoulders and leading him away. "Let me tell you the rules to haunting my son."

Shivering slightly as the 'S' word fell from Jay's lips, Harvey dragged a seat behind the desk and tapped on the computer's keyboard to wake it up, searching the desktop until he found the aptly named 'Hermes Talk and Play' icon. Entering Caleb's number from memory, he barely paused to look at the time before clicking the dial option, figuring lunch wasn't as important to Caleb as he was.

" _Uh, hello?"_

Biting back his automatic response, he braced himself before grinning wildly as the words _'Video Chat Available'_ flashed in the corner, clicking it and waiting eagerly for Caleb's confused face to appear on-screen.

"Hey Babe."

* * *

"If I'd known you were so connected to your Caleb, I'd have arranged for you two to talk earlier," Chiron's voice said gently as Harvey was shaken awake, blinking dumbly at the centaur before his eyes drifted to the screen in confusion.

"I… uh?"

"You fell asleep listening to him talk," Chiron explained, reaching out to smooth out Harvey's hair with a faint smile. "Apparently you haven't been sleeping as well as you'd led others to believe," he chided, "He also implied the same applied to him."

Obediently standing and returning the chair to its original position when Chiron nudged at him, Harvey sank into the seat with a yawn and glanced over to where Clarisse was waiting in the doorway with an expression of fused pride and embarrassment. "It's been hard, but I thought I had it under control," he confessed, the centaur humming in understanding.

"Well, I've suggested a method of keeping in touch to him I'm sure you'll quite like," Chiron admitted, tapping at his computer for a bit before pushing it to the side and bringing out a file and quill. "And I'll make sure to pencil you in for a regular appointment. Now, I do believe Clarisse wanted to talk to you quickly, so please pretend I am not here."

As Chiron buried himself in reading the file, Clarisse stood over Harvey awkwardly with her arms crossed, rocking back and forth on her heels. Not looking like she had any more idea of what to say than Harvey, who was too busy slouching in his chair feeling like he was basking in the aftermath of a deep-tissue massage. After opening and closing her mouth a couple of times, Clarisse shot Chiron's files a desperate look, the red folder dropping just enough Chiron's eyes were visible over top of it.

"I have been selected…" the centaur prompted, trialling off with an expectant look back Clarisse's way.

"I have been selected to lead the expedition to find the golden fleece," Clarisse blurted hesitantly, "It might be the only thing that can save the Camp and the barrier. I'm leaving in the morning with half of Ares Cabin and we're…" drifting off herself, Clarisse shot a look at Chiron before letting out an annoyed groan, pulling over a chair to slouch down in herself. "Listen by morning I'll be gone, and I'm not taking you with me, alright?" she said bluntly, brushing her ponytail back over her shoulder and squaring her shoulders. "And I know you wanna come, but I need people I can trust here protecting the Camp, and you need more training. It's supposed to be in the Sea of Monsters, which is really dangerous, and you're needed here more."

"Okay," he agreed.

"Okay," Clarisse repeated, blinking at him in confusion before asking "Okay?"

"Sure? I'll stay and guard the Camp," Harvey confirmed, nodding as Clarisse stared. "What?"

Clarisse shook her head quickly as she stood up, kicking her chair away lazily. "Nothing. I'll go pack, I just wanted to make sure who knew they were staying. You and Leo are in charge of the Cabin while I'm gone. We'll have one final Cabin meeting before I go, so be ready to get up early again tomorrow."

Watching as Clarisse turned and almost ran from the room, Harvey and Chiron exchanged a raised eyebrow as she paused in the doorway. "And don't beat yourself up about Victor," she said over her shoulder, keeping her back and head turned away as she shrugged. "It wasn't your fault."

"She's truly an amazing fighter," Chiron said slowly, "But ask her to have an emotional one-on-one with her own flesh and blood and she turns into that."

Shrugging it off, because really, he was the same regarding anyone who wasn't Caleb, Harvey turned back to Chiron as the man put the file down. "The golden fleece?"

The centaur sighed, inclining his head. "The golden fleece. A long shot to cure the barrier, but a long shot I desperately hope will work," he acknowledged, running his hand over his beard. "But, that is not why I called you here, nor is your little show out in my waiting room – but make no mistake, we _will_ be talking about that."

"Is necromancy really that bad?" Harvey asked nervously.

"There is no form of magic that is inherently evil," Chiron denied, "But if there were, necromancy would come _very_ close. Like all forms of magic, the intent is what truly matters. What you did before, summoning a spirit to demand answers of your parentage, was neither an example of good or evil. But what you did for Griffin, giving him tangibility, was done out of compassion and a desire to help him."

"So… good magic?" Harvey finished.

"So… good magic," Chiron confirmed, nodding. "Just the same, granting a spirit tangibility for the purpose of haunting someone would be done out of negative emotions, aligning it as 'dark'. It is never that simple of course, these examples are very basic in nature, but that is how things work. Necromancy as a whole is often used for evil causes, so it is naturally seen as evil, and many spells from within that sphere of magic do disturb the natural balance or harm people. But, if you were to use your apparently innate gift to summon up someone's mortal parent to give them peace of mind, then I would certainly shy away from labelling you as 'evil'."

As much as that explanation helped him, it didn't really help him. He'd bring it up with Caleb, see what his partner thought about it, but as it stood he'd played enough video games to feel a little hesitant over being 'innately gifted' at necromancy.

"But, that is not why I called you here," Chiron called his attention back, straightening out the file in front of him and picking up his quill. "Tell me, how has your first week here been?"


	11. Preparations

"Incantare ligabis eum."

Unable to even yelp as a voice behind him spoke, curtains jumping him from all directions, Harvey overbalanced and hit the floor, head smacking into what was probably the book he'd been holding before being ambushed.

Hearing footsteps approach him, Harvey glared as the curtain wrapped around his face was released and Tim blinked at him in confusion. The demigod stared at him for a moment before pulling the curtain back up, blocking out his vision before pulling it down again, as if he'd expected Harvey's face to have changed.

"Blair? What are you doing on the floor?"

"You cast a spell on me," he growled out, doing his best not to send the fifteen-year-old through the wall.

As Tim released him awkwardly, flushing as he helped Harvey loosen the curtains holding him prisoner and returned them to their railings, he searched around for the book he'd landed on and picked it up before Harvey could pull it to himself. " _The Book of Bigby; The Guide to Slapping That Bitch_ ," he read aloud, fingers tracing the open palm with the bumblebee in it with a confused look, "Who was Bigby? Was he one of my brothers?"

Telekinetically pulling the book from Tim's hands into his own, Harvey stood and glared at the young demigod again, waiting until he was cowering before stopping. "Bigby's a guy from Dungeons and Dragons, one of the guys in my party is a wizard who basically only uses spells Bigby wrote. I recognised the name," he explained, returning to what he'd been doing before Tim's attack, which was trying to open the apparently magically sealed book.

"My brother helped make Dungeons and Dragons?" Tim asked dumbly.

Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Harvey could only sigh. "No, he didn- well actually maybe you did have a brother working with them, I don't know. But Bigby is fictional. And I thought Caleb might find it awesome if I come home and cast something like 'Bigby's Striking Fist'-" Cutting off as the book opened suddenly, almost dropping it when the cover finally gave way, he glanced up at Tim and then back down at the page quite simply labelled 'Bigby's Striking Fist'.

Snapping the book shut again, Harvey cleared his throat "Bigby's Crushing Hand."

The book opening again to the resulting spell, he grinned and scanned the pages curiously, looking for some kind of indication of title or format. He didn't care about the supposed 'lore' of the spell, or the times the author's wizard character had used it in an encounter, all he was looking for was the science and the incantation.

"It's too high for you."

Eyes snapping up to see Tim shifting uncomfortably, the other magic-user reached up to point at the corner of the page, the words _'Evocation [Force]; 9_ _th_ _-level Sor/Wiz'_ written in small writing almost like an afterthought. "I can't even cast 9th-level spells, and Lou Ellen says you're only up to 1st-level ones."

"These are D&D standards," Harvey corrected absently, his dislike of the boy fading the more he read. "Fireball is a 3rd-level spell in D&D, but a level one spell according to Lou Ellen. Contents," he ordered the book, the pages flying past on their own until he was on the first page, giving him a list of the spells and their level. "Lou Ellen said I was allowed to help myself," he told Tim, hoping that the demigod wouldn't call him out on his bending the truth.

"Yeah, she warned us she was going to," Tim confirmed yawning and scratching at his chest before freezing and looking down. "Uh, I'll be right back," he stuttered, turning and sprinting back into one of the curtained-off rooms.

"What? What?" he called, frowning after him. "You realise I'm practically married, right? Seeing you in a shirt and boxers? Not exactly world breaking."

Not world breaking or at all physically appealing. Seriously, kids these days. A shirt and boxers was definitely welcomed over Leo's preferred sleepwear, which was absolutely nothing. Clarisse actually wore the same as Tim, something he was horrified to have learned.

"Why are you in bed this early anyway?" Harvey added after catching a glimpse of the clock. "It's only seven."

Returning to the shelves as Tim rambled out an awkward excuse that boiled down into "Lou Ellen made me take a nap", Harvey let his fingers trail over the books, occasionally pulling one out to read the title and pushing it back in. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for, really, since he 'wasn't actually a sorcerer' – just a magic user. Maybe he should just focus on his telekinesis, or the Bigby book he was definitely holding onto for now, instead of spells that could burn a man alive in seconds. Biting down on his tongue as the phantom smell drifted past his nose, a glimmer of light drew Harvey's attention to the black glow radiating out from one of the books in the very bottom left corner of the bookshelf.

Well, that wasn't ominous at all.

Disregarding all horror movies he'd ever watched, Harvey glanced over his shoulder to make sure Tim was still occupied and then crouched down to pull aside the books near the glow, squinting in at the small pocket-sized black book tucked covertly in the corner.

So, what were the odds this was some kind of book on necromancy? Reaching in telekinetically to pull the book out, Harvey hovered it above his hand and opened it cautiously, not wanting to risk touching it until he knew what it was about.

' _Totally Not Necromancy'_.

What was worse? The book's title or the really bad attempt at sketching a pentagram on the front cover that ended up as the Star of David?

"Hey, Harvey?" Tim's voice called, the book dropping into his hand as he jumped. "Are my jeans out there?"

Shoving the book into his pants as he looked around, Harvey picked up a pair of jeans from the floor and checked the tag, finding Tim's name helpfully written in vivid. Sending them under the curtain with a wave of his hand, he grimaced and shifted as the book caught against something vital. Served him right, judging other people on their underwear habits when he'd had to go without after his shower. Damn he really hoped that book wasn't cursed now.

"So, uh, you're not going with Clarisse tomorrow, then?" Tim asked as he stepped out into the main Cabin again, flushing awkwardly when he met Harvey's eyes.

"Nah, I don't have the training," he dismissed, waving it off. Seriously, he didn't get the point, why did everybody care so much about him going with Clarisse? They seemed to think that going on a 'quest' was some kind of big special thing, that he should be heartbroken that he wasn't invited. Maybe that was just a learned habit, but it was certainly one he hadn't learned yet. "Besides, Clarisse said that the 'Sea of Monsters' was really dangerous, they can't babysit me when they're supposed to be saving the world."

And why the hell would he want to go somewhere so dangerous? Call him a coward, but he wanted to be in one piece when he came back to Caleb. He'd do his bit here, protect the Camp to the best of his ability, but at the end of the day he wanted to _survive_ this place.

Maybe that was why he'd shoved the book on necromancy down his pants instead of putting it back.

"One book is enough, right?" Harvey asked, drawing Tim's eyes to the book on the table.

His maybe-brother just shrugged, "You can grab more, just skim read them or something. I learn spell by spell, but Maeve juggles multiple spells at once," he explained. "Just take care of them, Lou Ellen will murder you if you damage them."

Picking up the Book of Bigby again, he tucked it under his arm and slowly looked around the cabin, glancing to the clock on the wall. He still had time, the entire Camp was on a mixed high-low alert for another half-hour or so. Everyone was doing their best to rebuild the destroyed buildings while the cabins collected their dead. Chiron had already announced a late dinner following the funerals, which everyone was required to attend and pay their respects.

"You can stay, if you want," Tim offered, an air of forced casualness to his voice. "Lou Ellen says you're allowed to study here."

"Tomorrow," Harvey promised, only half meaning it. "Right now I want to go put on something more fitting for a funeral. Yeah," he agreed when Tim's eyes dropped to his chest, the shirt emblazoned _'Bring me to Life'_ not exactly appropriate for a funeral. "I know, right? But I'm out of clothes until laundry's done."

Gods know when that'll be now. There were more important things to do right now than laundry.

"I'll see you at dinner," he assured, watching Tim's face light up like a Christmas Tree. Poor guy, surrounded by girls all the time, it was obvious from the décor in the cabin that Lou Ellen and Maeve were demanding roommates. "We can talk then."

* * *

He hadn't really meant it, that they'd hang out at dinner. Not out of dislike or because he wasn't interested in getting to know Tim (which admittedly he hadn't been), but because he figured they were just making small talk and that it needed to be said so they could get on with their lives.

But after the funerals, which were strangely powerful despite the way he only knew one of the victims, he'd sat down for dinner and much to his uncle's confusion Tim had immediately sat beside him.

"You know, I've always wondered what people would say at my funeral," Griffin's voice said over the muted conversations, "And I've just got to say 'Hey!'"

"How many times has he made that joke?" Tim whispered, shrinking back a little at the dark looks being sent his way.

Kicking Leo under the table, Harvey shot his uncle a warning glare and shrugged, glimpsing Jay dragging Griffin out of the pavilion by his shirt. "You saw him, he tried to give his own eulogy. How many times do you _think_ he's made that kind of joke?"

"Yeah, but did you see Chiron's face when he said, 'As we commend your spirit to Elysium' and Griffin interrupted by pointing out his spirit was standing right here?" Tim blurted, sniggering slightly before falling silent under Leo's death stare.

"Tim. Meet my uncles, Griffin's brothers," Harvey introduced needlessly, Tim clearly remembering this fact as someone kicked him under the table. "Griffin's brothers, meet one of the people keeping the barrier alive, making it essential he stays in one piece without brain damage."

As his uncles tore their eyes away reluctantly, Tim wisely keeping his mouth shut, Harvey waited a minute or so before clearing his throat and nudging the teen next to him. "So, I glanced over that Book of Bigby earlier," he began slowly, "There are no spell levels, and no incantations, and even less science."

None of the spells in there had any of the three, actually. All there was, was descriptions of what the spell looked like, what it did, and basic lore and uses of it. At first glance, he was beginning to wonder if there was some kind of code he hadn't found yet or something, or if this demigod had simply pulled one of the longest-running pranks in history.

Much to Harvey's annoyance, Tim's only reaction was to shrug, mouth too full of food to respond.

"Are there any books on healing magic?" he asked when Tim had finished chewing.

"Ask Lou Ellen, she's running Maeve through it now," Tim replied quietly, eyes locked on his plate. "How long have you been doing magic for?"

What kind of question was that? Tim knew he'd only been at Camp for six days. The younger boy had sat in on some of Harvey's training sessions, simply because he'd had his own running at the same time while Harvey was hogging the only tutor in Camp.

"Six days."

Tim frowned at him slightly, pointing his fork accusingly. "Lou Ellen said you've been using magic since you were younger," he argued, "You killed a hellhound with it."

Right. Telekinesis was magic.

"Uh, since I was like twelve, or something. I didn't know it was magic until I got here though," Harvey answered absently, too busy staring challengingly at Leo who was staring right back at him. What? His uncle knew he could use magic, Harvey had thrown him into the water telekinetically on his second or third day at the Camp.

"Who taught you?" Tim questioned, sounding far too casual for the way he was sitting stiffly and watching Harvey from the corner of his eye.

"The internet."

Looking around the pavilion as his interrogator hummed thoughtfully, Harvey took in the dark air that seemed to hang over the other demigods, the normal brightly lit lanterns strung about hanging lifeless as the conversation never seemed to rise above a quiet murmur. He couldn't tell if it was because of the funerals, or because their 'safe haven' had been revealed to be more dangerous than any of them had expected. Not that the cause mattered, Harvey didn't feel comfortable discussing magic or training when most of what he could hear being said tended to be 'Pass the salt' or a drink order from the enchanted cups.

"Tim," he interrupted when the boy went to speak again, "Later. Tomorrow."

The other demigod fell silent with a sullen look, leaving Harvey to sit through one of the most awkward meals he'd ever had in his life. Not that he blamed anyone, they'd just lost brothers and sisters _because_ of brothers and sisters. It was hard to come to terms with Griffin's death when the ghost was constantly in his face.

Jerking in place as someone elbowed him in the side, Harvey leaned forward to look past Porter (Who he hadn't been very impressed with first meeting, status as best two-weapon fighter in the camp notwithstanding) at where Clarisse was sitting using a dagger as a steak knife. "You're on patrol tomorrow," she ordered down the table, "We don't have enough people to keep holding you back anymore. You'll join the others in patrolling twice a day minimum, I'll work your name into the schedule, you can bring your… friends… as extra eyes if you want."

Jay and Griffin should be happy to help, since they were having trouble leaving him alone in fear of being exorcised again. Proving themselves useful should be top of their to-do list.

"Expect a night patrol and a morning patrol at least, if you're not training then you're patrolling, got it?"

"Clear as day," he promised, Clarisse eyeing him for a moment before nodding and passing a similar message down the other side of the table to Bruce.

"And so, we shall go to war," Tim quoted in a ridiculously high-pitched voice, grinning to himself before jumping as Harvey's – and other's – feet kicked him under the table.

Time and a place, dude, time and a place.

* * *

He actually managed to sleep in the next morning, Clarisse too busy preparing for her quest to wake them all up for exercise, instead just making sure they all knew to be present for a Cabin meeting. Harvey had probably managed the best sleep at the Camp than he had so far, just a two-hour talk with Caleb enough to make him sleep like a baby – a baby haunted by nightmares of everyone he knew and loved dying to automatons and furies.

Still, better rested than he had been in a while, he dressed and got ready for Clarisse's meeting, hoping it wouldn't take too long so he could binge for longer at breakfast.

"Hey, uh Harvey, before you go," his uncle called, sticking his head out of his room as Harvey passed. "We need to talk."

Uh-oh, what did he do?

"Clarisse is going to announce it later," Leo explained uncomfortably, "Since she's taking Sherman and Mark with her, the Cabin will need a temporary leader. She's chosen you and I to do the job. I'm good with numbers and shit, logistics? I can run the Cabin in her place, I do most of it already anyway. But with her, Sherman, and Mark gone, you're the best fighter we have."

"I've been here for a _week_ ," Harvey reminded dumbly, staring at his uncle in disbelief.

"You held your own against Victor," Leo dismissed, "And you killed more automatons than anyone else in Ares cabin, including the big one. Add in your magic and your sword, and Clarisse wants you to act as the champion. You'll do the ruling with an iron fist, lead us into battle, even fight in camp games as Ares' representative. I'm the brain, you're the brawn, simple really. You probably won't have to do anything, but if something comes up then I'm not really the best option for that. I'm a normal soldier, not special forces, and she doesn't trust any of the others enough for the job."

Shifting uncomfortably as Leo left his own room, buttoning up his shirt and almost tripping over his shoe laces as he went, Harvey shook his head slowly. He wasn't so sure about this. For all Clarisse claimed he was super powerful, he'd only _barely_ beaten Victor even with his magic, and he only had a week's worth of training compared to everyone else. What was wrong with the other half-dozen uncles or aunts he had? They were all better trained than he was, and if he didn't have magic they'd slaughter him in a real fight.

Leo clapped him on the shoulder, smirking at the look on Harvey's face, "Clarisse isn't in the habit of asking these things, just accept it and move on. I'll see you in the armoury, later bro."

His uncle striding out of the cabin with a pleased whistle and a bounce to his step, Harvey stared after him for a moment before running his hand through his hair. He wasn't so sure he was ready for _this_. Fighting in a war was one thing, fighting to avenge killed family members was an even easier thing, but representing a _god_ against people his senior in both age and experience was an entirely different thing. Then again, each and every one of the traitor demigods were older and more experienced than him, so maybe he should focus on the war instead of something Leo doubted he would even have to deal with.

And if he was going to fight a war, he needed some armour.

Stalking into the armoury with his head high, Harvey came to a sudden stop with forming arguments dying on his tongue, all of them made useless by the mannequin with _'Harvey B.'_ written on it.

"Harvey! Over here!" Leo's voice rang out, a hand waving from deep within the sea of aisles. "Try this one on," the blond ordered when Harvey eventually found him and Bruce, thrusting a bronze breastplate at him.

"Don't try it on," Bruce argued, taking it and shoving it onto a random shelf. "It'll only weigh him down, he needs something leather."

"Bullshit. Leather won't protect him well enough," Leo snapped, picking up the armour again.

Bruce's arms crossed. "What the fuck crawled up your arse and died?"

This wasn't a _real_ argument, was it? Leo and Bruce looked close to trading blows, over something as simple as whether he should be wearing leather or bronze armour. Looking over the armour littering the shelves, Harvey tested out the weight of some of the closest before grabbing the most put-together one he thought matched, pulling it over his head and tightening the straps. It was a basic rule, in both Dungeons and Dragons and in real life. The heavier the armour, the more protection it provided but the less flexibility it left the wearer. If he wanted to become a walking tank, he would wear the bronze breastplate, but if he wanted to remain nimble he'd choose the hardened leather ones.

Not this one though, this one was too big.

"Try this one," Bruce suggested, smirking past Harvey at the pissed-looking Leo, "It's malleable enough that you're not walking around wearing a trash can, you'll be able to bend almost fully in it."

"Too small," he dismissed immediately, not wanting to get involved in their squabble. "Do you have anything without those shoulder things? I need my arms."

"And then when you get hit, they take your arm off at the shoulder," Leo reminded coldly, ignoring Harvey and glaring down his brother.

"Harvey's style depends on him _not_ getting hit," Bruce exclaimed, almost taking Harvey's head off with a wildly waving arm. "Griffin trained him, and you know Griffin's style."

"And where's Griffin now?" Leo asked bluntly, jaw clenching dangerously, "Why don't you ask him how well playing hard to hit worked for him."

And there went Leo, hitting the ground roughly as Bruce tackled him fist-first.

Giving up after testing out a couple of other breastplates, doing his best to ignore the mass of flying fists and kicking feet to his right, Harvey moved down the aisle towards the lighter armours and paused when something more his style caught his eye. It honestly looked more like something a cop or security guard would wear in the movies, the heavy leather reminiscent of a kevlar vest with nothing to weigh down his arms. A piece of simple (and modern) body armour was definitely preferable to the ancient Greek armours that lined the shelves.

And with just a little adjustment of the straps, it would be a perfect fit.

Leaving it on and heading over to where Clarisse was strapping on a pair of leg greaves, Harvey pretended not to notice her disapproving look at his new set of armour as he slid his baldric over top. "Do we have anything more lightweight?" he asked his aunt, crouching down to help with the other leg.

"Any lighter and it won't be worth shit," Clarisse scoffed, plucking at the vest and turning her nose up. "Paper would be preferable to this."

"This is under armour," he defended, pushing away the heavy greaves his aunt held out for him. "I've already got a proper chest piece in my room. And I don't want to slow myself down."

The noise Clarisse made said more than a thousand words, the soon-to-be conquering hero scanning the aisle before making a pained expression. "Don't ask," was all she needed to say as she grabbed something and held it out, "Head down to the forge if you need anything adjusted for your size."

Shamelessly shucking his jeans and trying on the new pants (Thank the Gods his laundry had been done last night), Harvey pulled a face at how tight they were, testing the stretch and finding it more flexible than he'd imagined. Rapping on what sounded like bronze plates hidden between two layers of fabric on top of his thighs and shins, he could only imagine how much of a twat he looked like, like a kid dressing up in his father's uniform to try look tough.

Clarisse still didn't look happy with his choice, but she still shrugged. "At least they're not leather," she mumbled, "When I first got here, I saw a girl dress up full dominatrix style. Leather tank top, pants, jacket. It was horrifying."

Something about her tone of voice made Harvey suspect that when Clarisse said 'saw', she meant 'in a mirror'.

Looking down at himself as he buttoned up the pants fully, he tucked his shirt in and transferred his belt from his jeans to his new military-esque combat pants, hooking his jeans over his arm. He definitely felt out of place wearing these here, surrounded by ancient armours and weapons, but simultaneously these were more comfortable than anything else he could have found here. As well as he found himself adapting to this life, he wasn't ready for total cultural submersion either.

"Hell, give yourself a pair of sunglasses and a gun, and stencil 'POLICE' on that vest, and you'd be a shoe-in for a rebel cop in a movie," Clarisse continued, staring at the shelf in front of her, lost deep in thought. "Guns would be useful right now, damn Olympus."

Someone yelped a few aisles over, neither of them even blinking as Bruce shouted "Hey! No biting!"

"Celestial bronze bullets, right?" he asked, Clarisse's eyes snapping to him. "Melt down a few swords for bullets, maybe get Lou Ellen to enchant them, shoot the fuck out of whatever comes knocking."

Clarisse smiled bitterly, "Fill a RPG with the ingredients for Greek Fire and blast them from a distance," she finished before shaking her head. "Whatever you do, don't. They'll murder you for even trying."

He frowned, ducking his head to try catch Clarisse's eye. "Who will?"

Clarisse met his eyes for a moment before flicking her own up towards the ceiling, "Who do you think?" she growled darkly, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter, we don't have time to sit about and gossip. You said the rest of your armour is in your room, go get it, the meeting is about to start. From now on everyone is required to wear their armour at all times, got that?"

Nodding, fighting back the urge to salute her sarcastically, Harvey paused for a moment to grab some knife clips for his belt and rushed over to his cabin. This was just more proof that he was in the middle of a war, being made to walk around in full armour. As if last night's nightmares weren't evidence enough, even Leo had been too busy recovering from his own to comment on Harvey's, they just pretended they couldn't hear each other's breathing or whimpers through their curtains.

Stepping into his painfully empty cabin, Victor's old room already packed away and ready for a new inhabitant, Harvey stepped into his own room and pulled the 'door' shut. Sinking down onto the bed and tugging the curtains closed as well, he waited a couple of moments as if expecting someone to burst into the cabin, before reaching under his dresser and pulling out a small black book.

He hadn't dared touch it yesterday, part of him afraid that Lou Ellen could just _know_ he'd taken it, and part of him afraid to risk reading a book about necromancy right before attending a funeral. But now he had a couple of moments to just skim it, not looking to learn anything more than what the book was about. If it was about 'evil necromancy' he'd just report it to Chiron, if it was more morally dubious then he'd keep a hold of it for 'safekeeping'.

Flipping through the pages carefully, Harvey cringed at some of the sketches and drawings he could see, pausing occasionally at a particularly gruesome one to note the name. Slowly he began to understand the purpose of the diagrams, beyond making him ill they tended to be something he might learn in biology if he took that class at school. The Withering Curse? Just prevented the target's cells from absorbing energy until they died. The various necrotic spells? Caused 'premature cell death' like some kind of fatal disease or spider bite, just medical textbook necrosis. There were even 'Wounding' spells that merely popped the cellular walls to cause injury.

It was all messed up shit, but so far he hadn't seen one offensive spell that didn't have _'Do NOT use on other people. Restrict to monsters only'_ written underneath the spell name, so he couldn't claim this person was some kind of sadistic freak.

Returning to the front of the book, where the author's note warned him necromancy wasn't for the light of heart before suggesting a book of knitting spells, Harvey stopped on a page quite aptly titled _'The Touch of Death'_ with _'(And occasionally Healing)'_ added underneath it in small writing. This was something he wanted to learn, not for the Death part, but for the occasionally Healing aspect of it. Just like his freezing the cup, if he learned how to drain something's energy, then logically he should be able to reverse the process and heal them. Not that he was swearing off using necromancy, but right now he feared he probably counted as 'light of heart' and was going to be careful about it.

Slippery slope, and all that.

Would Caleb join him if he went evil? Harvey felt like he probably would join Caleb if his partner decided to go for a life of crime, but Harvey was so addicted to his boyfriend that it went past cute and kinda bordered on sad.

Jumping as someone pounded on the cabin door, a voice shouting "Cabin meeting. Now!" through it, Harvey shoved the book back under his dresser and stood, finally remembering what he came here for.

His jacket.

He hadn't really worn it since he'd gotten to Camp, having to take it off every lesson got annoying after a while, and he'd just started leaving it in his room. Before he'd come to Camp he'd worn it as both a sort of trophy and a piece of armour. A reminder that he could survive anything, and a warning to other people to back off. Harvey might just be a teenager, but he was a big teenager who was more than willing to get into a fist fight with a gay basher and _win_. The only times he tended to willingly give up his jacket was when he was alone with Caleb, and that was only 'cos his boyfriend had wormed his way so far under Harvey's skin that armour tougher a fury's claws was useless.

Pulling it off the nail carefully, he stared down at the always warm leather for a moment before sliding it on in one graceful movement.

Time to go to war.


	12. Challenges

"You said I wouldn't have to fight anyone."

Leo blinked at him innocently, hand raising to his chest in an offended manner. "I didn't say that," the blond denied, both of them completely ignoring the swords being pointed in their direction, "I said you _probably_ wouldn't have to fight anyone."

Sending his chair into the first demigod who got too close – Bruce acting like _he_ had the right to look betrayed by this – Harvey kept his sword raised and the fire spell waiting on the tip of his tongue. The bastards could have at least waited for Clarisse to leave the cabin before swarming him. As it was, they were all claiming to be better for the job than the person Clarisse had actually selected, right in front of the woman.

The woman who shouldn't be looking so amused by this.

Sheathing his sword with a sigh, Harvey raised his hands and concentrated, watching his uncles and aunts hit a wall of invisible force as they tried to charge him. He couldn't take them all at once, the best he could hope to do was keep the shield up and take pot-shots whenever he got the chance. Although he hadn't expected this to work, telekinetic walls were things he'd only ever seen in video games.

Movement from the corner of his eye revealed Clarisse finally standing up, crossing her arms and once again seeming to grow 10 feet as she roared "Bruce! Porter! Victoria! Ronda! Stand down! _Now_!"

The four demigods immediately lowered their weapons, looking pissed as Ronda even drew her finger across her throat at him menacingly.

"We have the right to challenge the Head Counsellor for his position," Bruce declared stubbornly, ignoring Harvey as he attempted to stare down Clarisse.

"You _had_ the right to challenge the Head Counsellor for his position," Clarisse agreed, glaring at the boy until he dropped his eyes. "But instead you decided to attack him in a four-on-one ambush, therefore your right to challenge has been suspended. All challenges are to be announced formally and carried out in the Camp Arena, as a battle between the _single_ challenger and the Counsellor. You know that, I hand you your ass every month."

A one-on-one fight? He could do that. Sure, just Force Choke them until they pass out, or play keep away with their weapons, or with their limbs.

"That's-"

"That's how it's _always_ been," Jay said, cutting Ronda off as he stepped forward, the entire cabin going silent as the newly visible ghost spoke. "It's how it was done in my time, and it's how it was done before my time. And I don't imagine that rule has been cast aside in the eighteen years I've been dead."

Harvey liked that rule. He supported that rule.

"I challenge you for control of Ares Cabin," Joan, the bitch from his first day at Camp, declared loudly as she stepped forward. The colourful woman crossed her arms smugly, jutting one hip out as she raised her eyebrows at him, staring at Harvey until he realised he was supposed to say something.

"So do I!" Clark cut in, smiling apologetically at him. "Sorry, dude,

"What?" Joan snarled, "I challenged him first!"

"First come, first serve," Harvey interrupted, seeing Jay's lip twitching into a smile as he stepped up to the plate. "Joan, then Clark, then whoever's next in line. If you want to fight about your place in the line, then you can go sit with Bruce and the others in the naughty corner," he ordered.

"You don't get to decide that," Clarisse reminded casually, "That's up to the Head Counsellor."

Staring at the woman for a moment, Harvey nodded. "Then I call for a vote, all those declared the proxy Head Co-Counsellor and Champion of Ares Cabin by Clarisse, raise your hands if you agree with my decision," he called sarcastically, raising his hand and making a show of looking around for the hands he knew wouldn't be raised. (Although, naturally, some of his relatives still tried hopefully). "I'm all in agreement then, play nice or I'll take away your toys."

Clarisse's laugh echoed throughout the cabin, his aunt thankfully seeming enjoying this too much to take insult.

"Everybody get to the arena!" Leo yelled, taking charge with a loud clap, people hesitating for a moment before obeying. "And somebody find some of Apollo's lot for healing, nobody's going to die over this."

The moment the final demigod left the Cabin, leaving Harvey, Leo, and Clarisse alone with his ghostly bodyguard, the demigoddess' hands snapped out to grab both of them by the back of their necks, yanking them in with a deep growl. Off balance and fighting every instinct that wanted him to stop struggling and just go limp, Harvey cringed as Clarisse leaned in close, glaring daggers. "You're representing more than Ares cabin out there," she hissed, grip tightening. "You're also representing _me_. If you lose, _I_ lose. And if I come back to find you've embarrassed me, I'll stake you out in the buck for the hellhounds to find."

Nodding quickly, unable to do much more with his voice stuck at the back of his throat, he stumbled as Clarisse shoved him away with a sneer. "Don't hold back?" Harvey asked quickly, backing away as she dismissed him by turning to focus on Leo.

Clarisse paused and shot him a disbelieving look, "Beat the fucking _shit_ out of them."

"Can do," he muttered, shamelessly turning and jogging for the door with Jay as Clarisse threatened Leo just as cruelly behind him. At least he was already wearing his armour, he didn't want an opportunity to talk himself into getting nervous or self-conscious. He'd fought furies, automatons, and hellhounds. He could take on his own relatives in a non-deathmatch, the hardest part would be not doing so fatally.

Fireballs didn't exactly tickle.

"Hey, dude," Clark awkwardly greeted as Harvey stepped out into the chilly morning air, "No hard feelings, right? I mean, it's not personal, it's just business."

"It stops being 'just business' when you're planning on swinging a sword at my neck," he countered, unimpressed by the other's pathetic puppy dog eyes as he strode right on by.

"Well yeah, but it's not because it's you," the demigod defended as he caught up, "If it were just Leo, we'd have done the same. And the fact that it's both you _and_ Leo is even better, since it means we won't have to worry about the paperwork."

"Perk of the job," Harvey muttered, although he wasn't being paid and potentially still had to do paperwork to formalise it.

"But – I… whether I win or lose, you're still my brother, I've still got your back," Clark explained hesitantly. "No hard feelings. But I've got to at least _try_ , you know?"

Annoyingly, he actually did. He was taking the chance when the opportunity arose, he wasn't outright attacking Harvey himself.

"What's up with Bruce?" he asked, glancing over at Clark who seemed to take that as forgiveness.

"He's playing dirty," Clark confessed, "If you willingly give up your position verbally, then it still counts. He figured that you wouldn't know that it had to be formal, so he tried to cheat. I don't think he even noticed that Clarisse was still there."

"And that's why you can't hold back," Jay nodded, "Being the only one playing by the rules will get you killed."

Clark shuddered slightly, trying to subtly move around so Harvey was between him and the ghost. As happy as everyone was to have Griffin mostly back among them, the presence of Jay and the fact they were both ghosts seemed to freak them out a little. Harvey himself was more used to it, although that might have been because _he_ was the one to bring them back.

"Since when have I played by the rules?"

Jay snorted. "Not when you're playing monopoly, that's for sure. I don't think I've ever seen someone cheat so blatantly before."

"Don't listen to him, he's just jealous because I'm alive," Harvey lied, shooting the shocked Clark as innocent of a look as he could manage. "I was just exchanging the notes, we were running out of one thousand dollar bills."

Pretending not to notice Jay shaking his head rapidly as they reached the arena, Harvey also pretended not to notice the two freshly broken noses of the demigods who were actually lining up to challenge him. If he was supposed to be some kind of leader, he didn't want to be the kind of leader who ruled with an iron fist. He'd prefer only having to bring it out when he needed to beat someone with until they remembered who was in ruttin' command of them.

Yay, _Firefly_ quote. It was unsurprisingly difficult to work those into everyday conversation without getting weird looks.

"Get in line," Harvey instructed his uncle, watching Clark run off as Jay led him to the other side of the arena. "Advice?" he asked the ghost hopefully.

"As your protector, I say don't take any unnecessary risks. Put them down as hard and fast as you can with magic before they even reach you," Jay suggested softly, eyes watching the gathering demigods like a hawk. "As a son of Ares, I'd say the opposite. If you want them to respect you, you have to beat them in a way they can't dismiss as 'He cheated'. As your father, though, I'd vote you eat lunch by the pier so we can catch up. We haven't really had the chance to yet."

"Deal," he agreed immediately, Jay flashing him a smile. "So make a show of it, but don't be an idiot about it?"

"The more physical you get, the better. But the moment you start to lose, start using your magic," Jay corrected.

Physical? He could do that.

"Whatever happens here," Jay added quickly as Clarisse moved into the middle of the arena, what looked like half of Apollo cabin shuffling sleepily into the seating areas. "Just know that I'm proud of you."

Sliding off his jacket to leave his arms bare, wearing only a singlet beneath his breastplate, Harvey slung it over the arena railing telekinetically, figuring the magical 'armour' would interfere with the whole physicality plan he had. Triple checking his throwing knives as Clarisse gave an expositional speech for Apollo cabin who'd missed out on the foreplay back in Ares cabin, he looked past her at the seven demigods he'd have to fight, Clark being the only one there he spoke to on a regular basis. He hadn't trained with the others individually enough to know best how to fight them, that was probably Clark's only advantage over the rest of them. Day-to-day interaction wouldn't be enough for them.

A horn breaking through his inspection, Harvey blinked at Clarisse who'd moved to the side to blow it as Joan charged forward, a _huge_ sword in one hand and a shining polished shield in the other. Did she really think he'd fall for the mirror in the shield trick?

Conjuring his swords as he centred himself, he met her charge by simply not being there, sidestepping around her bulkier shield arm and switching to hold his kopis in reverse grip.

"YOU IDIOT! PUT YOUR SWORD BACK!" Griffin's voice yelled from the stands, the ghost having spent most of their training lessons explaining exactly why reverse grip wasn't as useful as Star Wars made it look. Something about having to move twice the distance to block, and finger vs thumb strength. He wasn't sure, he'd only half listened, too busy thinking of how to use his telekinesis to mimic the Force.

As Joan shifted her shield to try catch the sun, Harvey just circled her lazily, keeping the sun to her back and smiling at her when she growled.

Able to block any attempt Joan made at hitting him, but unable to get past her shield to hit her himself, they exchanged blows for a couple of minutes before Harvey saw his opening. Spinning around a thrust, he planted his foot in the centre of her shield and kicked, knocking Joan to the ground and into the path of _Ilingos_ which rested on her collar bone.

Really? Where's the challenge? He was supposed to be having trouble here, especially against Clarisse's training partner. Clarisse would destroy him in a fight, so why would she bother herself with Joan?

Stepping back with a frown, he eyed the standing demigod suspiciously. "Are you going easy on me?"

The answer came in the form of a lightning-quick jab at his arm, opening up a small gash before he could parry it, Joan trying to cave his skull in with a smash of her shield that left spots dancing in his eyes. Falling back into stance as Joan pressed her attack, Harvey grinned as she gave him a run for his money, dodging and weaving around her sword in ways that made him glad he was only wearing the demigod equivalent of a leather and bronze kevlar vest.

Getting another chance at taking her shield out of the equation, he kicked in from the side, avoiding the shield face and catching the rim with enough force to fling Joan's arm out to the side. Following his momentum through, he finished his spin and ended up _way_ too close to a female for his liking, _Ilingos_ keeping her sword out of the way while the sharp edge of his kopis tucked itself in under her chin.

"MATCH!" Clarisse shouted, Joan sagging for a moment before glaring up at him.

Stepping away as Joan's place in the arena was slowly replaced by a grinning Clark, Harvey winked at his uncle before reaching out to wave his hand to the side, taking the teen's legs out from beneath him for the hell of it. No better way to let someone know they weren't going easy on them just because they were friends.

After all, no hard feelings.

Going on the offensive the moment Clark came within range, he bit back a laugh as the other teen yelped and cursed. It reminded Harvey of his own fight against Victor, being so aggressive that Clark had no chance to do anything but defend. He'd gotten lucky with Joan, he hadn't had to resort to magic to win, but his uncle was so busy trying to keep his eye on both swords he felt like he didn't _need_ magic to win.

As Clark managed to spin his blade around to catch _Ilingos_ , managing to throw it to the side and kick his hand with enough force that his fingers went numb, Harvey promptly changed his mind about how necessary magic was for this fight. Slamming his now free hand into Clark's chest palm first, he sent his uncle head over heels across the arena with a hard telekinetic shove, flinching as he heard how heavily Clark hit the ground.

Giving his friend a chance to catch his breath and stand, stumbling over to grab his own sword, Harvey waved his hand curiously and gestured in Clark's direction.

 _Ilingos_ almost took off Clark's head with how quickly it jumped across the arena, following his (hopefully) subtle hand gestures to seemingly fight on its own for a moment. Clark was much more of a match for the one sword, fending it off but not exactly capable of striking out at the telekinetic magic holding it in place. Joining them and catching his sword on the back swing, Harvey slashed at Clark's leg with his kopis, immediately blasting the injury with telekinesis to knock his uncle over, bringing _Ilingos_ down to gently tap Clark's leather armour on the chest.

"MATCH!" Lee Fletcher's voice called, two thumps echoing as two demigods hurried over to heal Clark's leg and Harvey's arm.

"Bastard," Clark muttered, face turned down in a sulky expression despite the amusement in his eyes. "You were toying with me."

"Want me to open with a fireball next time?" Harvey shot back, helping his friend up as the daughters of Apollo returned to their seat.

Clark's over the top shudder almost made him topple over again, the demigod chuckling as he tested his weight on his leg. "No, not really. Breakfast after this?"

Nodding and sending Clark away with a clap on the shoulder, Harvey turned back to the lined up demigods as one of them tried to sneak off to join the rest of the cabin in the 'Not fighting' seating. The next of his uncles – a Greek demigod ironically named 'Roman' – fell to Harvey's throwing knives after he brought a bow to a sword fight. The next two weren't as hard as either Joan nor Clark, but they still fell to his kopis and telekinesis respectively. The sixth challenge wasn't even that, the third most recent son of Ares if he remembered correctly, having arrived here before Leo and Harvey himself. He was taken down by a simple punch, having closed his eyes and charged in screaming, sword held overhead.

Glancing around for the next challenge, he huffed and spun his swords for a moment. He could almost _feel_ the adrenaline pumping through his system, the closest he'd ever been to feeling the bloodlust that full-blooded children of Ares felt on a daily basis. The fight was over, and he just wanted _more_. Spotting his next targets from the corner of his eye, he grinned at himself and cracked his neck.

It was about respect, right? That's what Jay had said. It didn't matter how quickly he defeated them with magic, they'd only respect him if he beat the ever-loving crap out of them with his hands. Muttering an incantation under his breath, he raised his flaming swords and turned to face the 'naughty corner', spreading them in invitation.

"Still think you can take me?" he taunted, watching as of the four, Bruce and Ronda stood and vaulted the railings without hesitation.

Out of the two of them, only Bruce actually intimidated him. The dark-haired demigod was a beast with his weapons of choice, and while from what he'd seen Ronda was an expert martial artist, she was still easily held at bay by a long-range weapon like a spear or magic. But between him and Griffin, Bruce knew every aspect of his fighting style to the point where Harvey knew he had no choice but to start _and_ finish the fight with magical aid.

Pointing his kopis – which he should probably get around to naming – at Bruce, he cleared his throat "Incantare Circulus Ignis."

Both Bruce and Ronda threw themselves to the side immediately, arms coming up to cover their heads as they cowered on the ground, their reactions completely understandable if he'd been doing something like throwing a fireball. As it was, they both just looked stupid as the flames on his kopis leapt off to hit the ground near Bruce, making him tuck up even further as they spread around him into a crackling circle of fire.

Shit, that took more out of him than he'd hoped.

"What happened to one at a time?" Harvey scolded, turning his attention to Ronda who was cautiously making her way back to her feet, snatching up her staff again. He'd have to be careful here, he didn't actually want to break her weapon, the carved wood was too beautiful to destroy over something like this.

"Age before beauty," the woman challenged, sliding into a dangerous looking stance, staff parallel with her arm.

Harvey nodded, raising his sword defensively. "You're older than me," he pointed out.

If Ronda used a two-bladed sword instead of a staff, she'd have skewered him in a heartbeat, the butt of her staff slamming into his stomach with enough force that he almost hurled. Pulling it back and spinning it around, Harvey barely ducked under her second attack and attacked back, always able to beg Lou Ellen to repair Ronda's staff if he broke it. Playing it defensively again, not willing to stand still long enough to be hit, he returned to Griffin's style and used telekinesis to stop what he couldn't deflect.

Stumbling backwards out of the way of a kick – hearing it whistle through the air from the speed – he raised his swords as Ronda stepped back before jumping forward, staff raised above her head for what would be a kill shot if it hit his skull. Thrusting his hand out desperately, Harvey blasted the staff from her grip telekinetically, moving back to avoid being landed on as he grabbed at her and threw her against the arena's railing. With a gesture and a strained grunt, he tore the railings free and wound them around Ronda's arms, locking her in place before reaching out to tap her on the throat with _Ilingos_.

Turning back to Bruce, he waved a hand and put out the flames, raising an eyebrow at his glaring uncle. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you expect me to play fair after your little show back in the cabin?" Harvey asked innocently, swatting his uncle out of the air as Bruce lunged for him. "You know, Clark apologised for challenging me, said 'No hard feelings'. I'm not sure if I see it that way, but at least he's going blaming me for winning," he explained, absently making Bruce punch himself in the face a couple of times before throwing him aside again.

"Fight me you coward!" the demigod shouted, pushing himself up off the railing, stumbling a little before raising his tonfa-like weapons.

Smirking as he raised his own weapons, perhaps getting a little arrogant, Harvey just waited for Bruce to lose his temper and charge him again. As much as he liked his uncle (when he wasn't being a backstabbing assbutt, at least), he wasn't very patient. None of his relatives were, actually, even Clarisse preferred to act instead of standing around thinking about it. Even Harvey himself was usually in the camp of 'Han shot first', but he was still capable of biding his time and letting the other guy set himself up. Must be his quarter-Ares blood.

"HARVEY! _HARVEY_!"

Eyes flicking over to Griffin before he could stop them, he threw himself to the side in an awkward roll as Bruce lunged, blocking his wild swing backwards and meeting Bruce's second with one of his own. Trading a couple more blows, Harvey didn't hesitate to strengthen himself with telekinesis to match his 'purer blooded' uncle's strength. That extra quarter percent of Ares blood did a lot for a guy, most of his uncles and aunts boasted some form of enhanced strength or speed.

"When I win," Bruce began.

"Absolutely nothing happens," Harvey cut in. "You've lost your right to take the position through combat, me calling you out doesn't change that."

Bruce springing forward, the fight was almost disappointing. Neither of them used any of the fancy twirls or techniques seen in the movies, instead just mostly blocking and striking with both weapons in order to overpower the other. It was brutal, if he slipped up even a little bit Bruce would shish kebab him, and if Bruce faltered then Harvey would run _him_ through. And as violent as it was, Harvey fucking _loved_ it.

Harvey Jay Blair; Demigod and Legacy; Addicted to near-death experiences and Caleb.

What a resume.

Releasing a burst of telekinesis, just enough to knock Bruce back and let Harvey take the offensive, he almost killed Griffin as the ghost leapt between then with his arms raised. Barely holding his kopis back in time, he stepped away as Griffin cowered with a look of terror on his face, hand rubbing the point on his stomach Harvey's sword had gone through.

" _Ow_!"

"You're dead, that didn't hurt," Harvey defended awkwardly, keeping an eye on Bruce over Griffin's shoulder. Frowning down at his stomach, Griffin pulled a face, "Actually I think it did, is that a cut? I think that's a cut."

"Grif," he interrupted quickly, "What?"

The ghost blinked up at him for a moment, hand still rubbing his stomach absently, before his eyes widened. "You have to come to the Big House, it's important, Chiron sent Maeve to-"

"Chiron can wait," Bruce snapped, "I'm not finished with-"

Ignoring Bruce's squawking as he picked the other demigod up and threw him into the middle of the arena, Harvey took aim and cautiously cast the same spell again, swaying slightly as the energy drained from him to encircle Bruce in flames.

He'd swing by the dining pavilion on the way to the Big House, he needed a coffee or five. What was it Lou Ellen had said? His 'mana' would regenerate itself up to a point, but he'd need to eat to recover the rest. Something high energy would do the trick, probably. Oooh, did they have energy drinks? They weren't as energy as they claimed to be, but he liked the taste. (And he could get away with more than one a week without Caleb and his parents rationing his portions for the sake of his health).

Pretending not to notice the glare on Maeve's face as he passed her standing near the seats, Harvey glanced around for Clarisse to find her missing. Had she really left while he was fighting? Sure, her quest was important to keep around a hundred or so demigods alive, but _still_ , it kinda hurt she hadn't stuck around for just a couple more minutes to watch him win.

"Lou Ellen is going to be _furious_ when she finds out what you just did," Maeve warned coldly, pushing past him and calling him after her with a sharp whistle. "Because I _know_ she didn't teach you that spell."

Shrugging as he nudged her towards the fork in the dirt path leading to the pavilion, Harvey sheathed his swords and weighed up just running for it. "But she _did_ let me write down a list of fire spells on my first day here," he reminded simply, not feeling at all threatened by the look Maeve sent him, "She didn't really think I wasn't going to practice on my own, did she?"

Maeve's death glare reminded him somewhat of a small angry animal, very clearly pissed off, but ultimately still a small animal he could hypothetically drop kick over his back fence.

"Besides, I practiced," he dismissed, brushing past Maeve who – pissed as all hell – still stood by the entrance to the dining pavilion to let him grab something to eat. That's what the showers were for. Unlike most teenage boys his age, he spent most of his allotted shower time casting dangerous fire spells somewhere he could easily put them out.

Armed with a couple of sandwiches in hand, Harvey and Maeve caught up with what appeared to be the rest of the Head Counsellors as they trailed into Chiron's office.

Chiron bowed his head their way as Maeve led him into the room, an emotionless Lou Ellen already present and standing over the transparent figure of an arrogant looking ghost. "Ah, good morning, Mr Blair," the centaur greeted, turning away from Lou Ellen and the stranger with an odd glint in his eye. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Oh God. What a loaded question. Unable to stop himself from running through any rules he might have broken, his mind then jumping to potential rules he'd broken when he couldn't think of any worth the look on Chiron's face. If he started answering, they'd be here all day, so instead Harvey just shook his head slowly and shrugged again.

"Thanks. For letting me use your computer yesterday?"

Chiron blinked. "You're welcome. Is that it? Nothing to…" the man paused to search for the word. " _Report_?"

Report? What would he need to report about? This wasn't a war, except it kind of was, but even then, it wasn't like… wasn't like he had a position of power and needed to report on the status of his soldiers…

"Clarisse transferred command to me and Leo smoothly. We're armed and ready to begin patrols ASAP," Harvey declared, inwardly cheering when Chiron nodded with a quick smile.

Maeve let out a fairly unattractive noise. "' _Smoothly'_?" she echoed, sneering slightly as she moved over to stand by Lou Ellen and the ghost. "You call _that_ 'smoothly'?"

Bitch.

"Four people attempted a hostile takeover," Harvey confessed when Chiron paused and turned back to him, "Another seven declared formal challenges. The four were put in their place and will be taking on extra shifts around the Camp, while the seven have since withdrawn their challenges. Four people is less than one patrol," he defended when Chiron frowned, "And it was dealt with internally and immediately. Hence 'smoothly'."

"He dragged them all into the arena and beat them up," Maeve argued, "He's no better than Clarisse."

 _Thwack!_

Lowering her hand with a scowl, Lou Ellen narrowed her eyes at her sister. "If _you_ challenged _me_ , I'd drag you into the arena and beat you up, the fact that I'd use magic makes it no different. Be more understanding of their rules before you start stirring shit."

"Yes, well, magic is exactly the reason I called you here specifically, Mr Blair," Chiron admitted, sending them all a look that promised 'this isn't over' before looking among them all. "Thirty minutes ago, Ms Maeve and her patrol came across this spirit attempting to infiltrate the Camp, naturally they brought him here to me where I-"

"What spirit?" Leo questioned with a huff, sliding into the room awkwardly and sending a wink Harvey's way. "The four are scrubbing the bathrooms," the blond whispered before straightening up and turning to Chiron, "Sorry Sir, but what spirit?"

Chiron, who had attempted to hide his smile at Leo's words in his beard, went quiet for a moment. "Mr Blair, as the Camp's resident necromancer, would you please lead the interrogation?"


End file.
